


Alt Ed

by NachoDiablo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cupcakes, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marauders' Era, Oblivious Sirius, Remus didn't go to Hogwarts, Supportive James, and a whole lot of cussing, badass lily, swot remus and punk remus at the same time, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 61,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9639812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: “Remus? Who the bloody hell is Remus?” James is scrambling to straighten his chair as McGonagall glares at him from the head table.Mary smiles innocently. “Oh, just a new friend that Lily met over the holidays. He’s homeschooled, just moved into her neighborhood it seems. She says he’s very clever. And I hear he’s quite fit, as well.”AU where Remus and Lily become friends outside of Hogwarts, setting James and Sirius on a quest to learn more about this mysterious newcomer.





	1. January 1976

**Author's Note:**

> JKR has mentioned that without Remus' intervention, Sirius and James probably wouldn't have befriended Peter, so he's basically a non-player in this story. James and Sirius are the only two Marauders- for now, at least.
> 
> The characterizations are a bit different than canon as well, taking into account what I think would have changed, had Sirius and James not been exposed to Remus and Peter's influences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearsay and hexes.

“Evans! Oi, _Evans_! EVAAAAAAANS!”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes as James hangs over the stair railing, screaming down towards the Gryffindor common room. James’ wand is shooting off purple sparks as he waves it frantically, trying to catch the attention of the completely disinterested redhead down below.

 

“Want me to shove you over the railing, Jamie? That’ll shut you up and get Evans’ attention. Two dragons with one hex, mate.”

 

“Get bent, Siri. She glanced up at me! Don’t smirk at me, you git, she did! C’mon, I’ve got to give Evans her holiday prezzie. I didn’t want to owl it over hols, I wanted to give it to her in person.”

 

Sirius sighs deeply as he follows James to the dorm, flopping onto his bed and flipping through a quidditch magazine. “Don’t know why you bother, mate. She’s not going to accept anything you give her. She’ll just assume it’s hexed. And it probably is.”

 

“Oi!” James’ voice is muffled as he rummages through his trunk. “I’ll have you know, I put a lot of thought into this gift. She’ll have to go out with me once she sees it. I worked on it all holiday. Speaking of, how was Hogwarts? You could’ve come home with me, you know. You’re as good as family.”

 

Sirius drops the magazine and begins picking at the black nail polish that adorns his fingers. He pretends not to feel his insides tighten at the thought of spending the holidays with the Potters, with a real family, a family who can actually stand to be around each other for some absurd reason. “Skiving off celebrating with my family to stay at school is one thing, Jamie, but if I ran off to your place, Walburga would be on my case. Not that she’d want me home, mind you, but she wouldn’t want people to gossip about why her precious heir has absconded to celebrate with those dodgy Potters.”

 

“Well, you know the offer’s always on the table. You’ll visit this summer, right? We’ve got to keep up quidditch practice, and we’ve got to hit up muggle London again. If Evans and I are going to be a couple, I’ve got to be able to squire her around to all her favorite muggle places.”

 

Sirius snorts. “You can’t even use the underground without getting into a fight with the bloody turnstiles. Remember last time, when you gave yourself a black eye and that group of primary school kids out on a field trip all pointed and laughed fit to die at you? If only Evans had been there, she’d have swooned for sure.”

 

James ignores him as he thrusts a poorly wrapped package into the air, grinning madly. “Here we have it, my friend, the key to Evans’ heart. C’mon, it’s almost time to head out for potions. Come watch me give this to her, so you can feel like a prat later when she finally agrees to go out with me.”

 

Sirius groans and drags himself from the bed, trailing behind James. He doesn’t need to know what the present is. Even if it was the most brilliant present ever- which it won’t be, because he knows James- Evans would still set it on fire rather than accept it. He bumps into Pettigrew as he exits the room, ignoring the shorter boy’s nervous greetings as he continues down the stairs.

 

James is standing proudly in front of Evans, who is sitting by the fire, potions books in her arms, surrounded by her friends. A few of them look over at Sirius as he approaches, smiling and giggling in a way that Sirius finds thoroughly annoying. He pretends not to notice, focusing all of his energy on James and his forthcoming embarrassment.

 

“Hello there, Evans, did you have a nice-”

 

“Stuff it, Potter. We’re headed to potions now and don’t have time for your dramatics.” Evans has her eyes narrowed at James, who is smiling back at her brightly.

 

“Well then, I’ll be quick about it. I just wanted to give you your holiday gift. Here you are, my lovely flower.” James thrusts the lumpy package into Evans’ lap. Evans looks down at it in disgust, as if it’s a pile of rat spleens.

 

“Go ahead and open it!” James’ smile is stretching wider as he ruffles his hair nervously. Sirius feels bad for James and his impending doom, he really does, but that does not stop him from shaking his head and sniggering.

 

Evans makes no move to touch the package, still glaring at James. Mary MacDonald, who is sitting next to her, grabs the package from her lap and tears off the paper. She shrieks and tosses the gift at Evans, who catches it reflexively as her eyes widen in horror.

 

She is holding a stuffed, pink pygmy puff, which has been charmed to fluff its fur and coo, blinking its beady little eyes in an unsettlingly lifeless way. The worst part, though, is when it opens its tiny mouth and starts warbling the lyrics to “Hold Me Close”. The _wrong_ lyrics to “Hold Me Close”.

 

 _And if that toad gets weenie, oh I love you_ __  
_Baiting deer if you feed me_   
'Cause I shove the kings that-

 

The common room is silent as the tiny monstrosity finishes its tune. Before it can start up again, Evans sets it down on the couch next to her gingerly, as if it could explode at any moment, which isn’t an unfair assumption, considering the gifts James has given her in the past.

 

Sirius has seen Evans furious quite a lot, but he’s never seen her quite this enraged. Her face is simply purple, her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingernails digging into her palms. She’s quite terrifying to behold, and he chokes down his laughter as she slowly stands up and walks towards James.

 

Before she reaches him, she stops, takes a breath, and smooths out her face into an expressionless mask. Out of nowhere, her lips open up into a vibrant smile, causing James to inhale sharply and cough a bit.

 

“Thank you very much … James. You clearly spent a lot of time on this. I’m very impressed and flattered.” Her eyes are wide and guileless as she approaches James, who is quivering a bit with bewildered excitement.

 

“You- you like it, then?”

 

“Very much, James. I like it … very much.” Evans is mere inches away from James now , her green eyes boring into his hazel ones, and it looks like James is about to faint or spew, or perhaps both.

 

“Will- will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend, then?” James’ voice cracks on the last word, but no one laughs, no one so much as moves a muscle.

 

“And what would you like to do at Hogsmeade with me, James?”

 

“I’d uh … I’d like to take you to the Three Broomsticks for a drink.”

 

“Hmm, that could be nice. And what would you like to do after that?” Evans has her fingers resting lightly on James forearm.

 

“I’d uh … I’d like to take you around to Flourish and Blotts, I know that’s your favorite store.” James is looking a little more confident now, grinning like a prat, and Sirius feels a sense of foreboding.

 

“Interesting, and James … what would you like to do after that?” Evans’ fingers are ghosting up and down James’ arm now, her eyes never leaving his, and James quickly grabs her hand, bending down to her ear so he can stage-whisper into it.

 

“I’d like to drag you behind the greenhouses and snog your brains out.”

 

Quick as a wink, Evans has whipped out her wand, tapping James lightly on the nose and murmuring some sort of short incantation. She yanks her hand out of James’ and pushes him out of her way as she marches towards the portrait, leaving the eerie pink puff abandoned on the couch as her friends file out behind her.

 

“Not if you were the last person on Earth, Potter. See you in potions.” She’s grinning wickedly as she steps out of the common room.

 

James is still in a daze as Sirius grabs his arm and drags him into the corridor. “Bad luck, mate. I’ll mock you later, but right now we’ve got to make it to potions before Sluggy gives us detention for being tardy.” James doesn’t say a word, his brow furrowed in confusion.

 

They make it to the classroom just thirty seconds too late. James is still in a daze, trying to work out exactly what had happened and where he went wrong, no doubt. Sirius will tell him later that he went wrong back in December when he decided to get Evans a gift at all, but for now, he’s more focused on charming Slughorn out of giving them detention.

 

“Ah, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, care to enlighten me on why you are late to my class while the rest of your housemates managed to make it on time?” Sirius smiles winningly and opens his mouth, but before he can say a word, James pipes up.

 

“I’d like to drag you behind the greenhouses and snog your brains out!”

 

James’ eyes widen in horror as he slaps his hands over his mouth. The rest of the class is laughing uproariously, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, except for Snape, the greasy git, whom Sirius notices is looking at Evans suspiciously as she laughs heartily.

 

Sluggy’s bushy eyebrows are raised to his hairline. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Potter, but I’m afraid I will have to decline. Do take your seats, boys, and I’ll be seeing you both in detention this evening.”

 

Sirius sighs, and pulls on James’ arm. James seems out of sorts, walking slowly, causing Sirius to turn around and glare at him. “Hurry up, will you? Why are you walking around like you’ve been confunded?”

 

“I’d like to drag you behind the greenhouses and snog your brains out!” James looks at Sirius in horror as the class starts roaring with laughter once again. Sirius can feel his cheeks burning as he whips his head around to Evans. “What in Merlin’s pants did you do to him?”

 

Evans is smirking. “I didn’t do anything, Black. Although I must say, I’m glad he’s expanding his romantic options.”

 

Sirius is flushing. He is not a romantic option for James. They’re practically brothers. Snogging James would be like snogging Regulus. Well, probably not quite as disgusting as all that, but close. Besides, blokes don’t snog other blokes. No blokes that he knows of, anyway, not personally. Sirius isn’t sure why the thought is making him feel so odd, but he doesn’t like it, not one bit. Bloody Evans.

 

“Sir, can I bring James to Madame Pomfrey? I’m fairly sure someone hexed him.” Sirius refuses to look in Evans’ direction.

 

“By all means, Mr. Black. I’ll see you both this evening.” Sluggy is smiling amusedly as Sirius drags James out of the classroom. James has his hands smothering his mouth. As they head towards the infirmary, a pair of first-year Hufflepuff girls ask for directions to the astronomy tower.

 

“I’d like to drag you behind the greenhouses and snog your brains out!” James tries to keep the words from bubbling out, but it’s no use. The Hufflepuffs shriek and run away without further inquiry.

 

“Can’t you keep your bloody mouth shut, Jamie? What the hell did Evans do to you?”

 

“I’d like to drag you behind the greenhouses and snog your brains out!” James looks miserable, so miserable that Sirius stops being irritated and starts snickering instead.

 

By the time they get to the infirmary and James has let Madame Pomfrey know what he’d like to do to her behind the greenhouses, Sirius can’t stop laughing. Evans may be a bint, but that was a bloody good hex. He abandons James and spends the remainder of the morning smoking out the window of the dormitory and flipping through more James’ quidditch magazines.

 

When he heads to the Great Hall for lunch, James is waiting for him at their usual spot at the end of the table, looking rather cheery for a bloke who propositioned his elderly potions master.

 

“Oi, you doing any better, mate, or do I have to go sit with McKinnon and Longbottom until you’re feeling less amorous? Or are you saving yourself for Sluggy?”

 

James makes a rude gesture with his fingers. “I’m fine, Poppy fixed me up. That was some hex, y’know? Pretty brilliant. Took Poppy ages to get it sorted, she was quite impressed. At least something good came out of it though, Evans liked her present! I told you, Siri, she’d come around eventually.”

 

Sirius drops his fork, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jamie … mate, she was just pretending to like it, so she could get close enough to hex you.”

 

James looks crestfallen. “D’you think so? I suspected a bit, but I hoped…”

 

“Based on the fact that when I went through the common room, that pink nightmare was a pile of ashes on the couch, I think we can safely say that yes, Evans was indeed pretending. Merlin’s bollocks, Jamie, David Essex? What were you playing at?”

 

“What’s wrong with David Essex? I looked up the muggle music records, and that song was number one on the charts for all of October! Lily is muggle born, I figured she’d appreciate it.”

 

“Yeah, well, "Bohemian Rhapsody" was tops in December, and as much as I love Queen, you don’t see me trying to woo a bird with that song.”

 

James snorts. “What would you know about wooing birds? You’ve never had a girlfriend. Not that you’d have to woo that hard to find one, the birds are all gagging for you lately.”

 

Sirius shrugs. “I snogged Donna Fawcett over hols. We got caught under the mistletoe.” It wasn’t that they had gotten caught under the mistletoe so much as Fawcett had trapped him under the mistletoe, with fluttering eyelashes and a loopy grin on her face. Sirius had been quite irritated. He does not care much for the birds at Hogwarts who are always following him around in giggling gaggles, trying to wheedle an invitation to Hogsmeade.

 

James perks up interestedly at this news. “Oh really? Fawcett’s pretty fit. Not as fit as Evans, but then again-”

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, Jamie, stuff it about Evans already!”

 

“Fine, fine, Siri, don’t get your knickers in a twist. So, you going to ask Fawcett to Hogsmeade?”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Not a chance. The snog was terrible. All wet and … just … boring, y’know? I know you’ve precious little experience, but I’ve snogged my share of Hogwarts birds by now, Jamie, and I can tell you, there’s no one decent in the bunch. I’m not wasting my time on mediocrity, especially when they all flap about afterwards, gossipping and making up stories.”

 

James doesn’t say anything. He’s looking intently at his pasta, pushing the noodles around with a fork. He peers up at Sirius, chewing on his lower lip. “Siri … you haven’t snogged _that_ many birds. But if you don’t like it, you shouldn’t do it. You know, though … no matter what you want … you know I’ll always love you, right? We’re the Marauders, mate. Brothers. No matter what.”

 

Sirius screws up his face in confusion. “Er, yeah, Jamie, I know that. Git. I’ll always love you, too. Even when you end up marrying the giant squid once you finally accept that Evans wants nothing to do with you.”

 

James sighs irritably. “Never mind, Siri.” He goes back to eating his pasta. Sirius wonders if Evans’ hex has caused some sort of lingering brain trauma.

 

“How are you feeling, James? All set for your date with Slughorn later?” Mary MacDonald and a couple of Ravenclaws have crept up behind them, tittering in a way that sets Sirius’ teeth on edge.

 

James smiles brightly, leaning back in his chair. “Why so concerned, MacDonald? You worried about keeping Sluggy for yourself?” He winks as the girls laugh and nudge each other. Sirius rolls his eyes and pretends not to notice.

 

James winks again at the girls, causing MacDonald to turn an unappealing shade of pink. “That was a brilliant hex, I’ll admit it. I’m man enough to admit when I’m bested. Evans is one clever bird.” James has his feet on the table now, balancing on the back two legs of his chair. Sirius considers giving his feet a nudge, but decides against it.

 

“It was a nice little hex, wasn’t it? Lily’s owling Remus right now to let him know how it went, but I’m sure she’ll want to _properly_ thank him over the spring holiday.” Mary is smirking as James’ chair flies backwards with a crash.

 

“Remus? Who the bloody hell is Remus?” James is scrambling to straighten his chair as McGonagall glares at him from the head table.

 

Mary smiles innocently. “Oh, just a new friend that Lily met over the holidays. He’s homeschooled, just moved into her neighborhood it seems. She says he’s very clever. And I hear he’s quite fit, as well.”

 

James is turning an alarming purple color that’s clashing horribly with his complexion. Sirius hopes he remembers to breathe soon. “How the bloody hell d’you know he’s fit?”

 

Mary grins wickedly. “Because when I asked Lily if he was, she turned pink and refused to answer.” She flips her long black hair over her shoulder as she heads out of the hall. “See you around, boys.”

 

“Bye Sirius!” One of the Ravenclaw girls is waving shyly at him. Sirius smiles halfheartedly back at her. She immediately blushes and darts away along with her friends. Sirius sighs. Soon rumours about him and that Ravenclaw will be flying around the school, no doubt.

 

“C’mon, Jamie, let’s get out of here. We need to finish scouting the east wing to see which suits of armour we’re going to charm this weekend. Plus we’ve got to go through our supplies and figure out what we need to replenish at Hogsmeade. I’m pretty sure I’m low on color-changing fireworks.”

 

James is still sputtering about whoever Remus is as Sirius drags him into the corridor. He doesn’t stop until Sirius threatens to turn his hair blue. With as much whinging as Sirius has to hear from James over the rest of the afternoon and straight through their detention, he’s pretty sure he dislikes this Remus bloke already.

 

He is one hundred percent sure he absolutely detests the mysterious Remus after the spring holidays. Sirius has spent the holiday at Hogwarts, being pelted relentlessly with owls from James, wondering what Evans has been up to, and with whom.

 

The first Friday after the holiday, he and James find themselves under the invisibility cloak, heading towards the secret passageway to Hogsmeade. Sirius is already irritated from having to deal with Pettigrew and his blatant hints at wanting to tag along. He does feel a bit bad about giving the bloke rabbit ears, but only after James gives him a hard time about it.

 

Sirius gets even moodier as they round a corner and nearly run into Evans and Snape, who are arguing in loud whispers. Sirius tries to creep past them, but James grabs his arm with a warning glare as he presses himself against a wall to eavesdrop.

 

“-don’t see why you had to spend practically the entire break with Lupin at that horrid shop he works at. He’s not- there’s something off about him, Lily. He looked peaky when we first went to see him. He looks like he’s ill fairly often. Maybe it’s contagious.”

 

“Well, Sev, if you’re so concerned, then you don’t have to come along with me every time I go. I like Remus. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s great at Defense stuff. I’m definitely getting an O on that exam thanks to him.”

 

“If you need help in Defense, I’m more than capable of assisting. Lupin isn’t any better at it than me. He’s just- I don’t- we never get any time together, just you and I-”

 

“We would have had time if you hadn’t met up with Avery and Mulciber on the day I wanted to go into Diagon Alley. Honestly Sev, how can you complain about Remus when you hang around with creeps like them?”

 

“They aren’t that bad, they just- I need to be friendly with them, if I want a decent apprenticeship after graduation. They’ve got good connections.”

 

“You’re a whiz at Potions, Sev, you don’t need their help. It’s your choice, however, and if you choose to spend time with people that I don’t like, then I’m certainly free to spend time with someone you don’t like. I like hanging out at his shop. Antiques are so interesting, and it’s nice to get out of the house, especially when that horrid oaf is visiting Petunia. Besides, we don’t always stay in the shop. After he gets off work we go on walks, and one time we flooed from his shop to another shop by the seaside, and we-”

 

“He took you to the seaside? I cannot believe- he- you- what exactly are you-”

 

“You know what Sev, I’m tired of talking about this. I need to finish my rounds. You’d better head back to your common room before you say something you regret. Or I do.”

 

Evans stalks down the corridor stiffly. Snape kicks the wall, muttering to himself for a minute before heading the opposite way.

 

James is nearly apoplectic as they head through the passageway. “The seaside, Siri! That’s the most romantic spot a bloke can take someone! Long walks on the fucking beach and all that. This is bad, Siri, this Remus bloke is bad news.”

 

“Well, you and Snivellus finally agree on something then.” Sirius is thoroughly tired of hearing about Evans and Remus. He hopes that they do fall madly in love, and run away together this very summer, so he never has to hear about either one of them ever again. “Now c’mon, we need to get that bloody firewhiskey and be back in the common room before Longbottom’s birthday party starts. How about we charm pigs ears on Snivellus before the match this weekend, eh? That’ll cheer you up.”

 

James perks up at this idea, thank Merlin. In fact, annoying Snape cheers up James so much that the two Marauders and Snape become entangled in an intense hexing spree that ends only after OWLs, when Snape calls Evans a mudblood in front of everyone. As angry as James is at the slur, he’s quite delighted when Evans stops speaking to Snape, seemingly permanently.

 

At the end of term, Sirius is packing his trunk slowly, having waited until the last possible minute, just as he does every year. He does not want to go home. He wants to go directly to James’ house, where he can spend the summer mucking around in muggle London and practicing for the next quidditch season. He does not want to listen to Walburga rant every evening about what a disappointment he is while Orion drinks himself into a stupor and Regulus smirks from across the dinner table.

 

As he stuffs one last pair of socks into his trunk, James comes bursting through the door.

 

“We’ve got a mission this summer, Siri. This Remus situation has gone too far.” He flops down on his bed as Sirius throws a pillow at his head.

 

“Merlin’s pants, Jamie, what happened now?”

 

“I overheard Evans chatting with MacDonald in the common room-”

 

“They didn’t see you?”

 

“No, I was wearing the cloak. Y’know, so I could check in on what Evans was doing without her seeing me.”

 

“You were stalking her, got it.”

 

“It’s not staking, Siri! She’s sitting in a public place, and I’m not pestering her or bothering her, I’m just- listening at her, is all.”

 

“That’s what stalking is, Jamie.”

 

“Stuff it, you tosser, and just let me finish.”

 

“Oh yes, please do continue with this riveting story.”

 

“Shut up, Siri. Anyway, Evans was talking about how awkward it was going to be this summer, trying to avoid Snivellus, who hangs around over the hols, usually, which- ugh, can you imagine? Anyway, MacDonald was saying how nice it was that at least Evans had _Remus_ to keep her company, and Evans- she blushed, Siri! She blushed and said that she was- and I quote- ‘looking forward to spending her summer with him.’”

 

Sirius shrugs at this. “So what’s the problem? You afraid he’s going to teach her more hexes to use when you bother her? I liked that one where she shot something up your nose. Or the time she used that silencing charm that only worked when you tried to say her name? Or how about-”

 

“That’s not the bloody problem, you wanker! She likes him. She _likes_ him! She’s all wounded from Snivellus and she’s going to go crying to this bloke, and he’s going to comfort her, and take her to the fucking seaside, and then they’ll be sending out their wedding invitations before the bloody summer is over!”

 

“So you’re saying we need to get new dress robes for the ceremony? I don’t think we’ll be invited, mate.”

 

“Fuck off, Siri. We need to- I don’t know, do something to sabotage their budding romance! We need to get the scoop on this guy and figure out how to break them up.”

 

Sirius sighs wearily. “Seeing as you’re an expert stalker, I’m assuming that’s the basic plan? Stalk this poor bloke until you scare him off?”

 

A devilish grin spreads across James face. Sirius glares at him before charming all the pillows in the dorm to fly towards James at the same time, causing James to fall off his bed, cursing. Sirius laughs heartily. He’ll help James with this ridiculous plan, of course. He’ll always support James, no matter what, but that doesn’t mean he won’t torment him mercilessly along the way.

  
He feels a bit sorry for Remus, actually. Whoever this bloke is, he’s certainly not going to be any match for the Marauder duo.


	2. June 1976

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meddling and mustaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the nice comments! This is probably going to be longer than I originally planned, so I changed the total chapter number to TBD.

Sirius has to endure two excruciatingly long weeks at home before he’s allowed to escape to James’ place for the rest of the summer. Tumbling out of the floo with his trunk, inhaling the tantalizing scent of chana masala- Mrs. Potter knows it’s his favorite and makes it at least twice a week every time he visits- Sirius grins at the thought of a relaxing, carefree summer with his best mate.

 

His hopes are dashed when he makes his way up to James’ room to find that the poor bloke has gone stark raving mad in the week since they’ve seen each other. There are parchment lists scattered about the room, several muggle telephone directories torn up into haphazard piles on the floor, a large jar full of odd looking coins, and spread across the desk, a large map which James is hunched over, oblivious to anything else going on around him.

 

Naturally, Sirius charms “wanker” onto the back of James’ shirt before announcing his presence.

 

“Oi, Jamie, is this part of the stalking mission, or have you moved further down the crime path to become a serial killer? I won’t rat on you to the aurors, but I will write a tell-all book while you’re in Azkaban.”

 

“Siri! Thank Merlin you’re here. I think I’ve figured out where Lupin works.”

 

“Lupin?”

 

“Snivellus said his last name was Lupin, remember? Remus Lupin, works at a shop that sells antiques. Like a muggle Borgin and Burkes, I think. I went through all the muggle felly-tone books looking for those sorts of stores in Cokeworth, narrowed it down to four, marked here on the map. Then yesterday I dragged those muggle coins down to the outdoor felly-tone box in the village- might have changed too many galleons, by the way, felly-tone calls are not nearly as expensive as I assumed, so now I have this fucking jar of pence thingies to deal with. Anyway, I spent all day calling those four stores over and over again until Lupin answered the phone at  _ this _ store.” Jame points dramatically at a spot on the map.

 

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Er, how d’you know it was him? Did you have to do some sort of charm through the wires?”

 

James rolls his eyes. “No, you git. He used his name when he answered the phone.”

 

“Oh. Makes sense. So, what’s the plan, then? Head over there and hex his eyebrows off? People look right creepy without eyebrows, Evans’ll never go for him without ‘em.”

 

James heaves a sigh. “No, no hexing just yet. I’ve been thinking all week, and it’s possible that Evans might figure out that it was me who hexed him, and that might make her a bit sore at me.”

 

“Oh wow, Jamie, d’you think? Good call, mate.”

 

“Fuck off, Siri. Anyway, I’m thinking we’ll just hang around the shop tomorrow, see if we can spot Lupin. I’m guessing there won’t be too many young blokes at an antique shop. Then we’ll keep an eye on him for a few days, see what sort of bloke he is, maybe catch him doing something embarrassing that we can blackmail him with later. If not, we hex.”

 

“So basically, your plan is to quietly stalk this bloke until you do something rash and ill advised, thus ruining all your chances with Evans forever. Sounds good, mate.” Sirius laughs as James flings a muggle coin at his face. “All right, tosser, let’s get some flying in before dinner. Unless this Lupin project is more important than quidditch.”

 

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response or an insult. Grab your broom and get out on the pitch, you git. Next year with McKinnon gone, I’m going to be Gryffindor’s sole captain, and we  _ will _ win that fucking cup, mark my words. So you’d better shape up and stop pretending to fall off your broom during practices, or I’m going to use a sticking charm on your arse.”

 

Sirius is grinning as follows James out of the room and out to the yard, crossing his fingers that Mrs. Potter will see James’ shirt and holler at him before they make it outside.

 

The next day, Sirius and James take the knight bus to Cokeworth and park themselves on a bench outside of Spencer Antiques and Oddities, armed with the cloak and some muggle repelling charms. The shop does not open until ten o’clock, but James insists that they arrive at half past eight in case Lupin shows up early.

 

The hours drag on. It’s quite stuffy under the cloak, and Sirius has never been great at sitting still for long periods of time. Conversation dries up by noon. The quidditch magazine James brought has been reviewed and defaced by half past two. Charming various moustaches on each other loses it’s appeal by five. At half past five, James lets out a small yelp, smacking Sirius on the arm and whispering at him to hush.

 

Evans is coming down the street, looking quite cheerful as she strolls towards the door to the shop. James drags Sirius to the door as Evans walks in. Through the glass window, they can see Evans ring a small bell on the counter impatiently. A boy about their age walks out from a back room, and Sirius inhales sharply.

 

“Fuck, Jamie, you’ve no chance if that’s him. He’s fucking fit!”

 

James looks over at him, eyes narrowed. “And just how would you know if he’s fit or not?”

 

“Merlin, Jamie, I’ve got eyes. Plus I’m a good looking bloke, so I know what sort of stuff birds look for, and that bloke is … what the hell’s your problem?”

 

James is smirking at him, shaking his head for some reason. It’s quite irritating, so Sirius takes great joy in laughing at James when Lupin walks around the counter to give Evans a hug. He snickers as Evans reaches up to place a kiss to Lupin’s cheek, although his laughter dies down a bit for some reason when Lupin smiles and kisses her cheek as well.

 

“This is great, just great. He’s a swot.” James is resting his cloak-covered forehead on the glass window, moaning as Lupin and Evans chat in the shop. “Evans is a smart bird, of course she’d go for a fucking swotty choir boy type. Maybe that’s the problem, Siri, I’m just too rugged and outdoorsy.”

 

Sirius snorts at this and examines Lupin more closely. The boy is tall, but no taller than James. Certainly not as tall as Sirius. Likely the top of his head, which is adorned with honey-brown curls that look very soft, would only come up to the tip of Sirius’ nose, should they be standing near each other. His eyes are rather large, with thick, dark lashes. Sirius can’t tell from this distance what color they are. His skin is very pale, but his cheeks and full lips are rosy and pink. His nose is a bit too large, giving his face an arresting quality that draws you in, Sirius thinks.

 

He’s wearing fitted brown trousers, a grey tshirt, and a dark blue cardigan with elbow patches on it. A pair of black-framed glasses peek out from the top of his cardigan pocket. He’s smiling at Evans, laughing gently at some story she’s telling, and Sirius is alarmed to find himself smiling as well, as if Lupin’s smiles are contagious. He bites his lip sharply before James notices.

 

He’s on the thinner side, with shoulders that stoop a bit, unlike Sirius’ own broader shoulders. He’s definitely not a quidditch player, but as he pushes the sleeves of his cardigan up, Sirius thinks he can see some wiry muscle tone. As Sirius’ eyes drift down from those pale forearms to Lupin’s long, slender fingers, his eye catches on a small detail that makes him cough slightly.

 

“I don’t think he’s all swot, Jamie. Look at his fingernails. They’re painted black. He’s a punk, Jamie. A secret punk in swot’s clothing. You’re fucked, mate.”

 

After six o’clock rolls around, Evans and Lupin leave the shop together. James insists on following them as they head down the street, and Sirius finds that he doesn’t much mind. They might as well gather as much intel as they can now rather than later. 

 

Evans and Lupin head to a park, and start walking down one of the nature trails, with James and Sirius close on their heels. Eventually they arrive at a small clearing, and Lupin starts casting some sort of charms around, which Sirius recognizes as muggle repellents. Sirius and James manage to sneak into the clearing before Lupin casts the final privacy charm, although James is immediately regretful of this decision.

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, Siri, they’re about to start snogging, and we’re going to be stuck here and have to fucking watch, and then I’ll go mad and hex the prat, and then-”

 

“Stuff if, Jamie! There aren’t enough silencing charms in the world to contain your whinging, I swear to Merlin! Just shut up and let’s see what happens, we’ve already come this far.” Sirius hopes they won’t be snogging. The thought of Evans and Lupin snogging makes his stomach gurgle in an unpleasant way. Probably just disgust at the thought of that bint snogging anyone, no doubt.

 

When Evans pulls out her wand, both Sirius and James let out sighs of relief, which turn to gasps of surprise when Lupin raises his wand and an enormous silver wolf explodes out the end. It’s beautiful, shimmering as it runs across the clearing playfully before trotting back to Lupin and sitting next to him obediently.

 

Evans has a determined look on her face as she raises her wand as well. A large burst of silver erupts from her wand, a thick fog that seems to be trying to form something corporeal, although it can’t quite hold together. Still, Evans looks delighted as she claps her hands and throws her arms around Lupin’s waist in a hug. 

 

They practice for another twenty minutes or so before heading out of the park and parting ways. James is silent until he and Sirius board the knight bus.

 

“That was a patronus charm, Siri. A fully formed, corporeal patronus. That’s not an easy charm. This Lupin bloke’s packing some serious magical punch.”

 

Sirius nods, thinking of how practiced and confident Lupin had looked when casting the charm, no longer slouching but standing proud. He remembers how a stray lock of curls kept falling across one of Lupin’s eyes, which Sirius could now confirm were an amber color, flecked with green and gold. 

 

“I suppose you’re having second thoughts on hexing him, eh Jamie? Doesn’t likely matter anyway, seems like Evans is gone for him already. Bint was hanging all over him, wasn’t she?” 

 

“Don’t talk like that about her, Siri. And yes, I’ve second thoughts about hexing, but … I dunno, d’you think they’re together? Like,  _ together _ , together? It didn’t really seem that way to me.”

 

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You don’t think he likes her? He wasn’t acting the way you do around Evans, but maybe that just means he’s sane.”

 

James frowns, looking at Sirius closely. “No, I don’t think … I dunno, mate. We’ve got to talk to the bloke. Something’s … I’m missing something. We’ll go to the shop tomorrow and pretend to be customers, chat with him a bit.”

 

“Sounds good, mate. Let’s get there at a reasonable hour though.”

 

“Really? Sounds good, that’s it? I thought for sure you were going to take the piss for at least three hours.”

 

Sirius shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else to do, do I? Might as well support you in your stalking, make sure Lupin doesn’t hex your bollocks off.”

 

James is looking at him funny again, with that stupid smirk, but he says nothing, not until he lets out a stream of curses when Sirius hits him with a jelly-legs jinx as he steps off the bus.

 

They are at the front door of the shop at ten o’clock on the dot the next morning. Sirius is wearing torn jeans and a red tshirt that’s on the tighter side, although Sirius shot James with a bat bogey hex when he pointed out that fact. Sirius isn’t sure why James is giving him so much grief, accusing him of fussing over his appearance. He might have taken a few extra minutes combing his hair this morning, but that’s only because it was particularly tangled this morning.

 

James charges in through the front door, with Sirius trailing behind him. Lupin is sitting at the counter, reading a book. He’s wearing his glasses. As the bell on the door jingles, Lupin looks up from his book, a bright smile spreading across his face as he removes the glasses and stands up, running a hand over that infuriating lock of curls that just won’t stay put.

 

“Good morning! Is there anything I can help you with today? I don’t think we have any appointments on the schedule, are you just here to look at the muggle items?”

 

Sirius doesn’t want to smile back so quickly, but he can’t help it. Lupin’s grin is infectious. James, meanwhile, is sputtering. “How- how did you know we aren’t muggles?”

 

Lupin shrugs. “It’s my job to know. I see enough customers come through to tell the difference. We don’t get many wizards browsing, though. Usually Mr. Spencer deals with wizard artifacts by appointment. You two just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

 

James nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Er yeah, we were just out and about, y’know, seeing the sights in Cokeworth.” Lupin raises his eyebrow at this but says nothing. James continues to prattle on nervously.

 

“Yeah, we’re off from school for the holidays, we have a friend who lives nearby. Just popping round downtown before we meet up with him.”

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.” He extends a hand out to James, who shakes it vigorously. Sirius can tell he’s getting a bit cockier as he ruffles his hair.

 

“Nice to meet you, Remus. I’m- Jim. Jim Smith. And this is my cousin, Sam Smith.” Lupin turns to shake Sirius’ hand with a firm grip. Sirius looks down at their intertwined hands and feels a little flutter in his belly. He probably shouldn’t have eaten leftover curry for breakfast.

 

“So, Remus. Are you dating anyone?” Sirius bites back a groan at James’ blatant inquiry. He should have been the one to do the talking. James is no good under pressure. Sirius thinks he sees a smirk flash on Lupin’s face briefly.

 

“I’ve got a few birds on the line. You know how it is.” 

 

“Er, a few, huh? You’re a bit of a player then, no one special?” James has a slight tremor in his voice.

 

“They all think they’re special, mate. They’ve all got different talents that make them special in their own ways, if you know what I mean.” Lupin winks as James turns a violent shade of red as he whips out his wand.

 

“You fucking wanker- I can’t believe- Evans is a fucking  _ goddess _ , and I’m not going to let some fucking prat like you- why are you laughing?” James’ face is twisting in confusion as Lupin leans back against the counter, shaking with mirth as he tries to suppress his giggles. Sirius notices that he’s biting his lower lip slightly as he reigns in his merriment.

 

“Relax, Potter. I’m not seeing anyone, and that includes Lily. She and I are just friends.”

 

Sirius and James exchange glances. 

 

“How’d you know his name?” It’s the first thing Sirius has said to Lupin. He straightens up a bit as Lupin turns his full attention to Sirius for the first time that morning. Sirius notices the way Lupin’s eyes flick over him in a quick once-over. Sirius has to keep his hands tightly fisted so they don’t wander up to fuss with his hair nervously.

 

“Lily warned me to keep an eye out for you two. Said she had a feeling you might be, er, popping by. James Potter and Sirius Black, which would be you, I presume? She showed me a memory so I’d know who to look out for, but really, you blokes aren’t that inconspicuous.”

 

James is laughing. “Alright, mate, you’ve caught us. Blimey, Evans is a smart bird. I don’t suppose I can bribe you to put in a good word for me?”

 

Lupin is shaking his head, still smiling. “I don’t think that would be very productive. Although I have to say, she does talk about you quite a lot. Maybe you'd have better luck if you changed your tactics a bit.”

 

“Hmm, so you’re really just friends, then? You don’t fancy her at all? Why not? She’s brilliant, kind, gorgeous- you sure you’re not after her?”

 

Lupin’s stopped laughing, and is looking at the floor. Slowly he raises his eyes up to meet James, straightening his posture and taking a deep breath. 

 

“No, I’m not after Lily. She’s not my type.”

 

“Not your type? What, you don’t like redheads?”

 

“No, I-” Lupin bites his lower lip before replying. Sirius sees his fingers lightly brushing the tip of his wand, his feet moving slightly into a defensive stance.

 

“I’m queer. I don’t like girls. Have you got a problem with that?” Lupin looks as if he’s ready to be hexed or punched. He does not, however, look ready for James to throw his arms around him in a bear hug.

 

“You’re bent? That’s bloody brilliant! I knew it! Siri, didn’t I tell you they didn’t look like a couple? That’s why! Blimey, that’s a load off my mind.” He’s patting a bewildered Lupin on the back, arm slung over his shoulder.

 

Sirius doesn’t know what to think. He’s never met a queer bloke in person before. Not that he knows of, anyway, though there were those rumours about Benjy Fenwick before he graduated two years back. Sirius takes another look at Lupin. Remus. He looks like any other bloke. He certainly looks nothing like David Bowie or Freddie Mercury. 

 

“Well, Remus, it looks like we won’t have to duel you after all. Which is good, because you’d probably have beaten us both. I’ve been on the other end of your hexes quite a bit this past school term.”

 

Lupin is smiling again, looking a little shy, and a lot mischievous. “Well, Lily needed some help fending you off. Honestly, Potter-”

 

“It’s James, Remus, call me James, we’re all friends here.”

 

“Alright then. James, you seem like a decent bloke. Why in Merlin’s name do you torment Lily so much?”

 

Sirius snorts. “He can’t help it, mate, he’s crazy for that bird. As soon as he sets eyes on her, his common sense flies right out his ears and he acts like a fool.”

 

“Love makes fools of us all, Siri, maybe you’ll learn that one day.”

 

“Stuff it, Jamie. Er- Remus, are those records? Is that the latest from Kissing Inferi?”

 

Remus’ eyes widen. “Merlin’s pants, that shouldn’t be out here! Can’t have the muggles seeing that.” He hurries over to the pile that Sirius is pointing to, grabbing the top record and bringing it over.

 

“Er- would you like to listen to it? I’ve got a record player in the back room where we keep the wizarding stuff.”

 

“That’d be brilliant!” Sirius is grinning. “Kissing Inferi is my favorite wizarding band.”

 

“Who’s your favorite muggle band? Mine’s the Sex Pistols, have you heard them play? They don’t have a record deal yet or anything, but they have gigs around London. They’re brilliant.”

 

“Oh yeah, Siri made me sneak out in February to see those Sex Shooter blokes at the Marquee. They were pretty good.”

 

“Pretty good? Merlin’s pants, Jamie, you know nothing about music or living punk rock. Remus, ignore him and put on that record.” Sirius is impressed. Not many wizards know about punk rock, even with bands like Kissing Inferi getting more popular. 

 

Remus shrugs off his cardigan before heading over to the record player. Sirius notes that his tshirt and trousers are on the tighter side. He has a few scars running along his left arm. He’s definitely wiry, as Sirius had speculated yesterday. Sirius watches as Remus bends over to fiddle with the record player. He feels himself flushing a bit, for some reason. He turns away quickly to find James smirking at him. Sirius scowls. He’s not sure why James is acting like a fucking git, but he doesn’t like it at all.

 

“So, Remus, why aren’t you at Hogwarts, and how did you learn so many boss charms and hexes?” Sirius falls into a chair as he asks the question, grabbing the record cover and studying it intently, ignoring the other boys in the room.

 

“Well, my dad studies dark creatures, so he knows a lot of defensive spells. I read a lot as well, especially since we moved here last year. Mr. Spencer always has interesting books coming through. I did get a Hogwarts letter, but my parents decided to home-school me instead. We move around a lot because of my dad’s work, and my mum’s poorly, so she likes having me home to help out.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear, mate. My parents aren’t poorly, exactly, but they’re quite a bit older, so y’know. I get it. It’s nice that you’re able to spend time with your mum.” James looks very sincere as he speaks, but Remus looks a little bit uncomfortable.

 

“Yes, well … anyway, what’s Hogwarts like? If half of what Lily says is true, it sounds like a riot. Did you two really charm antlers onto the entire Slytherin quidditch team?”

 

Sirius bursts into laughter as James begins regaling Remus with the full story of that particular escapade. He likes watching Remus as he listens intently, his eyes bright, his smile wide as he chuckles. 

 

Two hours later, the boys have fallen into an intense discussion about the merits of the Ramones’ debut album. Remus has made them tea, and has his slender fingers wrapped around his mug. His cardigan is back on. Sirius isn’t a swotty type himself, but he thinks the style suits Remus. 

 

Remus clears his throat. “Er, if you’d be interested, there’s this show at the Black Swan next Sunday. Sex Pistols and Buzzcocks, with some new band opening for them. The Clash. It’s their first gig, and I haven’t heard them, but they’re supposed to be pretty good. I was planning on taking Lily, but she has a family thing that she can’t get out of. If- if you two … would you want to come along?”

 

“Brilliant! We’d love to go!” Sirius flushes a bit, worried that his reply was too eager. James’ smirk indicates that he certainly thinks so. Remus, however, looks delighted, grinning happily.

 

“That’d be ace! If you take the knight bus here again, we can floo there together. The owner’s wife’s a witch, so they’re hooked up to the network.”

 

“My house is on the floo network, and Siri’s staying with me, so could we just floo here as well? Be a bit easier for sure.”

 

Remus nods, looking down at his watch. “Sure, that works. You can use the floo to get home today, if you like. I should really get back to work. Unless you’re going to spend more time exploring scenic Cokeworth?” Remus is smirking as James laughs.

 

“Well, all’s well that ends well, eh? You’ve not hexed my bollocks off, and Siri’s found a kindred music snob spirit.”

 

Sirius turns pink at this, but Remus only smiles happily. ‘You’re alright, James, even if you’re not as musically evolved as Sirius and myself.” He turns and winks at Sirius, who feels his breath catching in his throat. 

  
He’s been feeling a bit odd all day, really. He’ll have to take a nap when they floo back to the Potters’ house. He’s probably coming down with something. Best that he rest up now so he’s feeling better in time for the concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, I'm figuring that Dumbledore did offer to have Remus attend Hogwarts, but his parents thought that having to keep such a big secret would be too stressful for him, hence the homeschooling. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! :)


	3. July 1976

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punk shows and patronuses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not an angsty teen who lived through the birth of punk in the 1970s UK, but I've done my best to be as accurate as possible through research.

_ Hi James and Sirius- If you’re still keen to see the Sex Pistols this Sunday, let me know. The show starts at nine, so we should probably meet up to floo over around quarter til. Cheers- Remus Lupin _

 

**Hi Remus- This is Sirius responding, since James has worse handwriting than a drunken hippogriff. We’re definitely still keen, you tosser (James’ words, obviously. I’d never be so pedestrian in my prose). Instead of meeting up at the shop, why don’t you floo to James’ place and we can head out from here? Cheers- Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- That sounds good, what’s the floo address? I’ll be by around half past eight. That should give us enough time to destroy James’ BeeGees record. I can’t believe you let him buy it in the first place. Johnny Rotten would never approve. -Remus _

 

**Remus- You’d better not tell Johnny Rotten that I’ve listened to a BeeGees record, although I’m so obviously punk rock, he’d never believe you. James has far worse records than that, by the way- he’s always trying to keep current on muggle music to impress Evans, but he has no discerning taste at all. The floo address is Potter Manor. See you on Sunday. Anarchy Now.- Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- I can’t believe you admitted to listening to that record. I’m saving that note for blackmail purposes. Also, I wanted to mention, please make sure James is dressed in muggle-friendly attire. When you came to the shop that first time, his socks had snitches on them. See you tomorrow- Remus _

 

**Remus- Clearly someone hit me with a confunding charm. How else do you explain me admitting to something that never happened? That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Good call on James, by the way, I’ve already had to remind him that he can’t wear his quidditch jersey to a punk show. He claims he can pass it off as a muggle footie jersey. We are mates with someone who would wear a footie jersey to a punk show. Maybe we should keep a silencing charm on him tonight. -Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- I’ll bring along an extra New York Dolls tshirt for James to wear. I think we’re about the same size. I don’t think a silencing charm will be necessary. If he gets too embarrassing, we’ll just deny we know him and help the rest of the crowd pummel him. See you shortly- Remus _

 

Sirius is eyeing the clock. Remus should be coming any minute. He’s quite excited. As big a fan as he is of punk music, he’s only been to that one show at the Marquee that McKinnon told him about. He’s a bit jealous that Remus gets to see so many more shows. One of the benefits of being home-schooled, he supposes, although Remus also likely has the benefit of parents who aren’t completely mental.

 

At precisely half past eight, Remus pokes his head through the floo to see if it’s alright to come over. Sirius quickly grants permission. James comes strolling into the room just as Remus steps through.

 

“Welcome, mate, good to see you again.” James claps Remus on the back. Sirius wants to do the same, but ends up just smiling and nodding hello like a git. “Is that the shirt you want me to wear? Brilliant, let me just grab it and- Merlin’s pants, are you wearing eye makeup? You look boss, mate! D’you think you could put some on me, too? Siri’s been riding me about my style, the wanker, but I’d definitely fit in with some of that eye stuff on me.”

 

Remus is blushing a bit at James’ compliment. “Er, sure thing James, all we’d need is some black eyeliner. Do you have any?”

 

“I’m sure mum does, hang on one second. MUM! WHERE’S YOUR EYELINER, SIRI AND I ARE GETTING MAKEOVERS!”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes as James hurries from the room, leaving him alone with Remus. He takes a moment to look over Remus’ outfit, agreeing with James’ assessment that he looks good. Remus is wearing jeans with tears on the knees, a tight black tshirt with the anarchy symbol on it, and black Chuck Taylors. His fingernails are adorned with black polish, and his eyes are expertly rimmed in black. 

 

Sirius realizes that he’s been staring a bit too long without talking. Remus has a guarded look on his face, one eyebrow raised. Flushing, Sirius grins and hastily spits out a greeting.

 

“Er, good to see you mate. Thanks again for letting us know about the show, it should be a blast. I like your tshirt, by the way. And James is right, that eyeliner is boss. I’d have worn some, but I can’t get the hang of applying it, really. My last attempt had me looking like a deranged raccoon.”

 

Remus laughs. “Thanks, I like your shirt as well. Glad to see you went with Patti Smith rather than the Ramones.”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “James asked why I wasn’t wearing my Sex Pistols shirt. I tried telling him, you don’t go to a concert wearing the logo of the bloody band that’s performing. It’s just not on.”

 

“Obviously. I mean, in ten years when you see the Sex Pistols perform, then you can wear their old shirts to shows to prove that you were a fan before it was cool.”

 

“In ten years they’ll be sellouts, playing to arenas filled with screaming posers. Don’t tell me you’d go to a show like that, Remus? I thought you only saw bands who played in dirty pubs for free beer, like a true punk.”

 

Remus is laughing again. Sirius likes being able to make him laugh. He likes a lot of things about Remus, which is odd, because he doesn’t like very many people. Most of the people he meets are boring, or stupid, or judgmental. Most people are either immediately disgusted or dazzled when they find out that Sirius is one of  _ those _ Blacks. Sirius detests both reactions equally. James is Sirius’ only real friend, the only person who gets him, who sees him as Sirius. Not Sirius Black. Just Sirius.

 

Remus might not ever be a friend like James, Sirius thinks, because there’s only one James. He could be a different sort of friend, though. They don’t know much about each other, not yet, but Sirius is looking forward to learning more about Remus.

 

James returns triumphantly with the eyeliner. Once Remus is done applying it, Sirius has to admit that with the makeup and the tshirt, James does not look overly embarrassing.

 

“Alright Jamie, you’ll do, I suppose, but I still reserve the right to hex you if you ruin my punk cred.”

 

“I thought you were so punk that your cred was undeniable?” Remus is grinning at him. Sirius smirks back. 

 

“Very true, Remus, very true. It doesn’t matter anyway, that eyeliner cinches his look.” 

 

“Want me to do you as well?” Remus holds up the eye pencil.

 

Sirius stares at the pencil, gripped between Remus’ slender fingers. “Er … sure, why not? Sounds boss.” He sits obediently in an armchair as Remus carefully lines each of his eyes with sure, practiced strokes. He tries not to blink, focusing on Remus’ amber eyes, hovering so close to his own. 

 

He ignores James’ stupid fucking grin as they step through the floo to the Black Swan’s back office. A tired looking man wearing reading glasses is sitting at a desk in the room. “Good to see you, Lupin and friends of Lupin. Go on in for the show.” He turns back to his paperwork.

 

“Don’t we have to pay a fee or something?” James whispers as they walk through the office door and head down a narrow hall towards the main stage area.

 

“Nah, they don’t get that many wizards in here usually, so they wave the fee. Solidarity and all that, I guess. We still have to pay if we want a pint or something, though, which we’re free to order as they only card at the front door.” Remus winks mischievously. 

 

James throws an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “Brilliant! I love this show already. We’ve ten minutes before the show starts, let’s grab a pint, eh?”

 

Remus leads them to the bar, stopping to wave or say hello to a couple of people on the way. Once they have their pints and are settled around a table, Sirius takes a look around the room. It’s fairly small, with a crowd of about fifty or so. The opening act is setting up, though they are taking their time about it. The amps on the stage are splashed with pink paint. The band members are wearing white and black suits that are ripped up and splattered with paint as well.

 

Sirius leans over to Remus. “Who’d you say the opening band is, again? Those blokes in the suits?”

 

Remus wrinkles his forehead. “Er, well I thought they’re called the Clash, but the posters are calling them the 101ers, and I heard a bloke at the bar call them something else entirely. They’ve only just formed in the last month or something.”

 

Sirius’ eyes widen. “Blimey, we could be seeing the next big thing! How ace is that?”

 

Remus laughs. “More likely we’re seeing some obscure group that’ll disband in six weeks. But for tonight, we can pretend otherwise.” He’s grinning happily as he looks around, waving at a bloke sitting at the bar, who returns his wave with a salute. 

 

James nudges Remus. “Y’know a lot of people here? If you want to go chat with your other mates, Siri and I’ll be fine on our own for a bit.” Sirius scowls. He does not want Remus to leave him here with only that twat James for company. He’s relieved when Remus shakes his head.

 

“Nah, they’re not proper mates, just people I see around. You go to enough shows, you see the same people. You say hello, make small talk, mock the newcomers, then you go home and don’t talk again until the next show. I, er … I don’t have a lot of mates. Just Lily, really. It’s harder to meet people when you’re … home-schooled. Plus with muggles it just gets awkward, having to hide such a big part of who you are. They can’t really know you, not all of you, which is fine sometimes, but … never mind, I’m being daft.” Remus is blushing, staring intently at his pint, looking uncomfortable. Sirius feels his chest clenching up. He does not want Remus to feel uncomfortable around him.

 

“You  _ are _ being daft, you git, because you’ve got mates. You’ve got us, haven’t you?” James ruffles Remus’ hair, and Remus shoves him away, a small smile creeping onto his face.

 

“Too right, Jamie. Sorry Remus, but once James Potter takes a shine to you, you can’t get rid of him. I was a right prick to him for the first month of school but the git couldn’t take a hint, and now I’m stuck with him.”

 

“The first month? You’re still a right prick to me, you fucking wanker. Just yesterday you spelled the zipper to my jeans shut after we drank all that lemonade after quidditch practice. Siri’s the real threat here, Remus. He’s like a bloody dog, one of those rabid types who’ll either bite off your hand or follow you home and never leave.”

 

“Woof!” Sirius grins as he drains the last of his pint, relieved to see Remus smiling again.

 

The show is bloody brilliant. Remus cleverly and discreetly casts a very slight muggle repellent charm around the three of them so they can make their way to the front of the crowd. The opening band knocks over one of their amps, screws up a few of their songs, and tells a heckler in the audience to fuck off multiple times. It’s the best performance Sirius has ever seen.

 

It’s midnight by the time the Buzzcocks and the Sex Pistols finish, but Sirius feels electrified. He demands that they stay for another pint before going home, and is pleased when Remus readily agrees. It was strange to see Remus out there in the crowd, screaming along to the songs and elbowing the crowd enthusiastically. It’s hard to believe this is the same bloke who wears cardigans and is fussy about his tea. Sirius thinks this juxtaposition only makes Remus even more punk rock.

 

They’re waiting for their pints at the bar when a dark-skinned bloke comes up to greet Remus, draping an arm around his shoulders. Remus introduces him to Sirius and James as Rob, and chats with him for a few minutes until their drinks come and they excuse themselves to head over to a table. 

 

“Oi, Remus, were you trying to pull that bloke? We didn’t mess that up for you, did we?”

 

Remus chokes on his pint. Sirius is irritated. Why would James think that? He looks over at Rob, who is still at the bar. He looks like a fucking prat, with shifty eyes and weird looking ears. There’s no way Remus would want to pull a bloke like that.

 

“Er, no, James, I wasn’t- I don’t- “ Remus is coughing now, and Sirius pats him on the back, glaring at James.

 

“What’s the matter, can we not talk about it? Fuck, are you worried about people giving you shit for being- you know?” James looks around the room, as if expecting an attack at any moment.

 

“No- no, James, it’s fine. I mean, I’ve run into trouble before, but not here. The community’s pretty small, you know, and it’s-  that’s part of why I love the scene so much, it’s so political, all about freedom and justice, and it’s nice to pretend, even if it’s only for a little while, that it’s okay to be different.”

 

“I know what you mean.” Sirius’ voice is quiet. “I feel the same way. I’m a bit of the black sheep in my family, so to speak, so I’ve always been the odd one out, y’know? And I don’t mind, because they’re a bunch of fucking bigoted arseholes, so I’m glad I’m different than they are, but it’s still …” He stops talking and takes another sip of his pint. He pretends not to see Remus’ comforting smile, or James incredulous look. He’s not sure what made him speak so frankly, but he doesn’t feel awkward about it, which is odd.

 

“Well, I’m happy to chat you up to a bloke if you need it. Or beat the piss out of someone bothering you while you do the chatting.” James is grinning. Sirius wants to smack him. 

 

Remus is completely flushed now. “Er, no need James, thanks. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, and I’m not a fan of one-offs.”

 

James raises an eyebrow. “No relationships, eh? Why not? D’you have an Evans that you’re pining after like me, or are you a curmudgeonly confirmed bachelor like Siri?” Sirius kicks James under the table, hard, and grins when James shrieks in pain.

 

Remus smirks as James throws a balled-up napkin at Sirius. “Neither, thank Merlin. I’ve just, er … I was sort of seeing this bloke, and it ended on rather bad terms. I don’t really have the desire to go through that again. Besides, it’s not like there’s a steady parade of bent wizard punks for me to choose from.”

 

James snorts into his pint. “I’d pay good money to see that parade, mate!”

 

Sirius snickers. He wonders what sort of bloke Remus was seeing. Probably some prat. Remus said it hadn’t ended well. His face falls into a frown. That fucking queer prat better not have hurt Remus. It’s a good thing that Remus has him and James as mates now. They’ll be able to vet any future blokes to ensure that the next one is up to snuff.

 

_ Sirius- thanks for sending that picture of James with the cat nose and whiskers. I can’t believe you did that right before Mrs. Potter’s formal dinner. Well, I can believe it, because it’s you, but still. I look forward to seeing James’ revenge. Not that he’s planning anything. Not that I’m helping him plan anything. -Remus _

 

**Remus- If you keep talking like that, I’m going to kidnap you and bring you to Hogwarts with us in September. Your brilliant pranking skills simply cannot wither away in Cokeworth- we need you to help us torment the Slytherins. James and I will be in Diagon Alley on Friday, do you want to come with us? -Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- Diagon Alley on Friday sounds ace, assuming that I survive Thursday. Dad’s taking me with him on a job to deal with a doxie infestation, and the last time I dealt with doxies, I got a face full of venom. Wish me luck.- Remus _

 

**Remus- Great seeing you yesterday. I barely noticed that doxie bite on your nose. That could be because I was too busy dealing with the fact that my fucking jeans were slowly shrinking. The sealed zipper was a nice touch. Using my own tricks against me! Very devious, Remus. I know you intended it to be embarrassing when the seat ripped, but I was just relieved to be able to breathe again. -Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- I have no idea what you’re talking about. James and I did nothing to your jeans. I told you not to get that double scoop of ice cream at Fortescue’s. That was likely the culprit. However, as an act of contrition, although not as an admittance of guilt, I’ve attached a copy of a punk zine I ran across the other day. It’s called Sniffin’ Glue, and the grammar is atrocious, but I think you’ll love it regardless. -Remus _

 

**Remus- Sniffin’ Glue is the most brilliant piece of literature that has ever been published in the history of the universe. Do you think Mark Perry would let me write an article? If I had an article published in a punk zine, it would be the proudest moment in my life, even if in the future I cured dragon pox and hexed Snivellus into oblivion. -Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- Snivellus is Snape, right? He used to come around with Lily. I’m glad she finally realized what a prat he is. I’m happy to assist with any hexing you do to him. You should definitely write an article for Sniffin’ Glue, by the way. We can go over topic ideas this Thursday when we meet up at the Three Broomsticks. Also, will you and James be free on Sunday, 29 August? There’s a show at Screen on the Green- Clash, Sex Pistols, and Buzzcocks. The same lineup we saw at the Black Swan. I hear it’s going to be fucking ace now that the Clash has got their act together a bit more. Let me know and I’ll get the tickets. -Remus _

 

**Remus- James and I are both in for the 29th. James wants the tickets to be his treat, though, so let him know the cost and he’ll pay you back. Don’t bother trying to fight him on this- Potters are annoyingly generous. Just accept it and treat him to Honeydukes later. My mum’s making me come home for the last four weeks of summer- I’m sure you can guess how excited I am about that- so send any letters to James for those four weeks. My mum will burn any letters I receive, unless they are from Voldemort supporting twats, in which case I’ll be the one burning them.- Sirius**

 

_ Sirius- Good to know, I won’t owl you during that time. Just remember what we talked about the other day at the Three Broomsticks. You’re brilliant, Sirius, and you don’t need to give any credence to their drivel. Please promise me that you’ll go to James’ house if it gets unbearable. Or even if it’s not that bad but you just need your space. Remember, you can still send me letters, even if I can’t reply, so keep me posted on your article drafts. -Remus _

 

It is Friday, the thirteenth of August, at nine in the evening when Sirius tumbles through the Potters’ floo unannounced. Mr Potter is smoking a pipe, which he drops in alarm as Sirius and his trunk come through.

 

“Er, hello Mr. Potter, I’m sorry to disturb you, but … can I speak with James? Is he here?”

 

“Of course, son, let me just- er, don’t tell Mrs. Potter I was smoking in the house, eh? She’s at her niece’s house visiting the new baby, and, er … “ He’s hastily waving charms around the room to clear the smoke. “James is in his room, you can go on up. Take your trunk and settle into your room.” Mr. Potter seems unphased by the fact that Sirius is dragging all of his worldly possessions behind him as he trudges up the stairs.

 

James is lying on his bed reading a quidditch magazine when Sirius enters his room.

 

“Siri? Blimey, why are you here? Why d’you have your trunk? What happened?” He looks concerned as he leaps up from the bed to fuss over Sirius.

 

Sirius shrugs him off, flopping back onto the bed. “Nothing happened, not like you’re thinking. Walburga was nagging me about going to this meeting with Voldemort supporters. I didn’t want to go. She disagreed with my wishes. I told her to piss off, then I came here.”

 

James’ mouth is hanging open, his eyes wide. “You … you told your mum to piss off?”

 

Sirius smirks at the memory. “I believe my exact quote was, ‘fuck you, you mental bint, and piss off to muggle hell where you belong.’”

 

“Muggle hell? What the fuck is muggle hell?”

 

“The worst kind of hell, for her, probably. Fucking … I’ve had to listen to this Voldemort drivel since we began at Hogwarts, Jamie, and I’m fucking tired of it. I’m tired of her telling me I’m the one who’s in the wrong for not being a bigot. For not thinking that someone like Evans or Remus is somehow lower than you or me. For refusing to pretend that Andi no longer exists now that she’s married to Ted and has Dora. Fuck her bigotry. Fuck Orion and his drunken, mindless compliance. Fuck Regulus and his sycophantism. I don’t care what they think. I haven’t been a part of their family in a long time, and I’m tired of pretending.”

 

James is sitting next to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius, rubbing his back gently. “You’re not a part of their family, Siri. You’re my brother, and I love you. My parents love you. Unpack your stuff, because you’re home now. Merlin’s pants, you’ve had your own room here for the past five years.”

 

Sirius smiles weakly. The Potters are something else. Mrs. Potter had decorated one of the spare bedrooms that first summer he stayed over, making sure to use Sirius’ favorite colours and encouraging him to hang his posters. He’s not sure how the Potters manage to be so overly generous and accepting while remaining completely sincere. 

 

He’s glad to be free of his family, he truly is, even when his mum sends a howler announcing that she’s blasted him off the family tapestry. He knows that even though he can be a bit of a prat when it comes to hexing and mischief causing, he’s a better person than any of them. Still, he spends the next three days lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing.

 

It is Tuesday, the seventeenth of August, at eleven o’clock in the morning, when Remus strolls into Sirius’ bedroom, causing Sirius to sit up too quickly and bang his elbow painfully on his headboard.

 

“Ow! Fuck- Remus? What are you doing here?”

 

Remus shrugs and leans against the door jam. “James said you had a rough weekend.”

 

Sirius narrows his eyes. “It’s nothing. They’re a bunch of twats and I’m better off without them. I don’t care one bit about any of them.”

 

Remus raises one eyebrow. “Really? That’s very … evolved of you.”

 

Sirius presses his lips together tightly. He doesn’t want to fucking talk about any of this.

 

“Anyway, the reason I’m here is to get your lazy arse out of bed. James wants to learn the Patronus charm. You might as well learn it along with him. I can do a fully corporeal patronus, do you want to see?”

 

Sirius bites back a grin. He knows that Remus can produce a corporeal patronus, but he mustn't let on that he knows. “Sure, let’s head out. I’d like to see that.” He runs down the stairs after Remus, noting how graceful the other boy is as he jogs out into the backyard. 

 

James is waiting for them, grinning and running a hand through his hair. “Alright then, mates? Let’s get this patronus thing going. Remus, we’ll show you ours if you show us yours.” He winks exaggeratedly, the git. Remus laughs and raises his wand. Sirius and James watch in awe as the silvery wolf emerges from Remus’ wand, prancing around the yard.

 

“He’s beautiful.” Sirius blushes when he realizes he’s said that aloud.

 

Remus smiles gently. “Thanks. Er … well okay, the first thing you should know is the incantation,  _ expecto patronum _ . However, the most important part of the spell is the memory. You need a happy memory in your mind when you cast the charm. That’s what makes it work. I use the memory I have of … a nice moment I had with a friend, a moment when I felt completely accepted for … everything, just as I am. Once you have a good memory, it’s all about the confidence and the wand movement.”

 

Sirius wonders exactly what Remus’ memory is. That train of thought is cut short when James shoots a silvery blur out of his wand.

 

“Merlin’s pants! That was amazing for a first time, James!” Remus is beaming. Sirius is a bit jealous. He wants to be the reason for Remus beaming so brightly.

 

“Really? That’s ace, mate, I was just … I was thinking about the time Evans almost accepted my invitation to Hogsmeade. I know she was just messing with me, to get me close enough to hex, but … I dunno, it still made me so fucking happy, the happiest I’ve ever been … fuck, am I a complete prat? Bloody … y’know what, I don’t care. I’m completely gone for Evans, and that’s just my reality.”

 

Remus is looking at James bemusedly. “You really care for her, don’t you?”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me, mate? Evans is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and she hasn’t even properly happened to me yet. I’m in this for the long haul, Remus, even if she isn’t, not yet.”

 

Remus has a small smile on his face. He turns to Sirius. “Sirius, would you like to give it a try?”

 

Sirius grins. He can do this. If James can do this, he can do this. He tries to imagine his happiest memory. Moments with Remus fly through his brain, but they’re all tinged with something … odd. His chest tightens, however, at one memory, a memory he can use. 

 

_ You’re my brother, and I love you. _

 

A large dog explodes from the end of his wand. Remus and James are staring in awe as the dog runs over to Remus’ wolf. The two animals begin nipping at each other playfully.

 

“Fuck, Siri! That’s … it’s lovely.” James has a soft expression on his face. Sirius is grinning cockily, though he blushes furiously as his dog turns to wag his tail suggestively at Remus’ wolf.

 

Remus is laughing, and for a second Sirius’ stomach tightens in fear for some reason. “Er, what’s so funny, Remus?”

 

Remus turns to Sirius, a sunny grin spreading across his face. “James said you were a dog, Sirius. I guess he was right.”

 

A laugh escapes Sirius. “Well, James’ patronus will be a chicken then, since he’s such a mother hen.”

 

“Oi! You fucking wanker- my patronus is not a chicken!” James has a determined look on his face as he tries the charm again. A giant stag erupts from the end of his wand on the third try.

 

“Merlin’s bollocks!” Remus’ eyes are wide, and he’s shaking his head as the stag joins the wolf and the dog in their play.

 

“What is it?” James looks concerned.

 

Remus is biting his bottom lip, attempting to hold in his laughter. “It’s nothing, I … I really should not tell you.”

 

“But you will tell me, because we’re mates, and you know I’ll pester you until you give in, so you might as well save yourself some time, you wanker.”

 

Remus sighs in defeat. “Merlin’s bollocks, James ... I should not be telling you this, but … Lily. I’ve been teaching her the patronus charm. She’s a muggle-born, you know, and she needs all the protection she can get, what with Voldemort out on the loose. Anyway, her patronus … she just got the hang of the corporeal form, and it’s … it’s a doe.”

 

None of the boys speak for one long minute. 

 

“YES! WE ARE BONDED BY DESTINY ITSELF! THIS IS GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN!” James is punching his fist into the air. Sirius mocks him laughingly until he comes over and punches Sirius in the shoulder instead.

 

“Ow! Tosser! How d’you know it’s destiny? There have to be other blokes out there with stag patronuses to match hers. She’ll probably go for one with bigger prongs.” Sirius easily ducks James halfhearted fist.

 

“Say what you want, you mangy mutt, you know it’s fate. This is it. This is the year it’s going to happen. Remus, you’ve got to help me, now that you see for yourself that my love is pure and real.”

 

Remus sighs. “I’m not going to betray Lily’s trust in any way, but I will give you some general advice on how to be less of a complete prat, advice which may or may not line up with things that are important to her.”

 

James is grinning madly. “No worries, mate. I’ve got a real chance, you saw the proof. I can stop being a prat long enough to get serious about my wooing.”

 

Sirius snorts at this, but before he can make a rude comment, James is running back towards the house, hollering about lunch. Remus and Sirius trail behind him. Before they get too close to the house, Sirius grabs Remus by the arm.

 

“Er … thanks, mate. For … y’know, teaching us the charm, and … everything.” Sirius is staring intently at a tree just to the right of Remus’ face, not wanting to meet his eyes.

 

He’s caught off guard when he’s pulled sharply into a tight hug. Sirius freezes for a second, panicking slightly at the feel of Remus' surprisingly strong arms wound around his waist, his head resting against his shoulder. Cautiously, he allows himself to gently rest his own arms against Remus’ back. His eyes close for a minute as inhales the clean scent of Remus’ soft curls, which are pressed against his nose.

  
Remus pulls away after a few short seconds. He smiles at Sirius. “Come on, let’s get inside before James eats all the roti again.” He turns and heads into the house. Sirius needs to take a deep breath to steady himself before he follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus' patronus memory is from the day about a week prior to meeting the boys, when he told Lily he was gay. There was lots of hugging and chocolate frogs, no doubt. He'd already told her about his lycanthropy on the day they went to the seaside together, so Lily now knows all of Remus' secrets and loves him just the same, because my Lily is a badass Lily.


	4. September 1976

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cupcakes and confessions.

**Moony- Just wanted to let you know that Prongs and I made it to Hogwarts in one piece. It was touch and go there for a bit while Prongs was debating whether he should drop out and follow Siouxsie Sioux around on tour. He’s got a thing for tough birds, as you know, and he’s still waxing poetic about how she told him to “watch your fucking overgrown feet” when he literally ran into her in the loo at the concert earlier this week. Also wanted to let you know that the flower fireworks at the welcome feast went off without a hitch. Every single bird was cooing as the roses rained down on them, even the teachers, so we didn’t get any punishment. I still think we should’ve left the thorns on for the Slytherin table, but I suppose the detention wouldn’t have been worth it. -Padfoot**

 

_ Padfoot- I still cannot believe that we are using these ridiculous patronus nicknames. What are we, muggle cartoon characters? I hope Prongs has stopped singing Anarchy in the UK nonstop now that you’re trapped in the same bedroom as him again. It’s bad enough that he’s so off key, but is he completely incapable of memorizing lyrics? I swear to Merlin, every time he sings it, he manages to muck up the lyrics in a fresh new horrifying way. Maybe we should have let him stick to the BeeGees. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Be grateful for your nickname. It could be far worse. I won’t even tell you what Prongs named his first pet parakeet. He’s a nickname sort of bloke, you just have to deal with it and focus on his (arguably few) positive qualities. Speaking of which, this is the first year that he hasn’t had Evans explode at him in the first five seconds of being back at school. Your sage advice is paying off, it seems. Mind you, she hasn’t spoken to him at all either, and she’s still giving him death glares from across the common room, but still, it’s progress. -Padfoot**

 

_ Padfoot- Lily hasn’t been very thrilled about me being mates with you two. I’m surprised she hasn’t hexed either of you by now. Have you gotten any guff from your brother, by the way? I’ve heard the Slytherins have been particularly nasty lately. I’m working on a list of revenge pranks, naturally, but Pads, don’t let them get to you. You are more punk rock than they could ever be. Also, is there any chance that you and Prongs would be able to sneak out on a Monday night? 21 September there’s going to be a show at the 100 Club. It’s a two-day event, but Monday has our good friends Joe, Johnny and Siouxsie performing. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Of course we can make it, you prat. Prongs would never let his beloved Siouxsie down. We’ll sneak into Hogsmeade and floo from the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta won’t give us any trouble. Wish we could apparate, but my birthday’s not until 3 November. I’ve wheedled McGonagall into letting me take the test on my actual birthday rather than waiting to take it over hols. There are perks to being a legal orphan, it seems. The Slytherins have been wankers as usual, but oddly, I’m not insulted when they mock me for being a blood traitor, seeing as that’s one of my best qualities in my opinion. No, Regulus hasn’t spoken a word to me. Hopefully this is a trend that will continue. You’re pretty punk rock yourself, Moony. -Padfoot**

 

It is four days into the new school year, their first Saturday back at Hogwarts, when Evans finally snaps. She has been staring at James and Sirius for the last twenty minutes as they lay sprawled on the common room floor playing exploding snap in front of the fireplace. Her glare is fierce enough to bore through a stone wall. Every so often, James will look up at her and give a small wave or a friendly smile before quickly turning his attention back to the game.

 

“Wonder when Evans is going to give it up and hex your knob off. She looks bloody furious.”

 

James smirks. “She just needs to get it out of her system. Once she hollers at us for corrupting Moony, she’ll see what great mates we are to him, and that’ll only make her want me more.”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Well Prongs, seeing as she currently doesn’t want you at all, I suppose any minute change in direction away from intense hatred counts as wanting you more.” He ducks as James flicks a card at him right as it explodes.

 

“Keep doubting me, Pads, but Moony’s advice is working. I’m fucking nailing it! Have you noticed that I either wave, smile, or nod when I catch her eye? Moony told me to only do one of those things at a time, because usually I do all of them at once and Moony says that makes me look like a fucking prat.”

 

“You look like a fucking prat no matter what you’re doing.”

 

Before James can retort, Evans stands up and begins walking towards them, fists clenched tightly against her sides. She stops when she’s standing over James, glowering down at him. She is completely ignoring Sirius, which is just fine with him. James looks up at her and smiles once, very politely.

 

“Good afternoon, Ev- Lily. Something we can help you with?”

 

Evans blinks. James has never called her by her name before. “Yes, Potter. There’s something you can help me with.” She looks around the room, making sure that no one is paying any attention to them.

 

“I know you two’ve been hanging out with Remus. If this is some sort of sick prank or some way to try and get to me, you need to stop it immediately.”

 

James’ eyes widen. “Prank? What the fu- no, it’s not a bloody prank, Lily. Remus is our mate. I genuinely enjoy hanging out with him, and he’s basically Padfoot’s swotty doppelganger.” Sirius feels his cheeks turning pink as he pretends to be shuffling the deck of cards rather than eavesdropping, although neither James nor Evans seems to notice or care that he’s there.

 

“I’m dead serious, Potter. Remus is not just some bloody  _ mate _ to muck around with for me, he’s a very special person, and I care about him a great deal. He’s had a rough go of it, and the last thing he needs is you two coming in and playing games with him.”

 

Sirius scowls. Remus is not just some regular mate to him and James either, he’s a bloody Marauder now. Sirius doesn’t appreciate this bint indicating otherwise. 

 

Evidently neither does James, as he narrows his eyes at Evans while he stands up to face her. “Remus is a Marauder, Lily. Why would you even think- what kind of person do you think I am? And I’m perfectly aware that he’s had a rough go, he told us his- his secret, and for your information, neither of us care. He’s still our Moony, no matter what.”

 

Evans’ jaw has dropped. “He- he  _ told _ you two? And you don’t-”

 

“Yes Lily, we know Moony’s bent, and we don’t care. Did you- you really thought we would? You thought we’d just drop a bloke for something like that? Merlin’s pants, Lily, I know you think I’m a prat, and I’ll even admit that you’re not fully off the mark with that assessment, but I’m not a bloody bigot.”

 

Evans is sputtering like a wet cat. “No, that’s not- I wasn’t thinking that you’d care about that, Potter, I knew you wouldn’t. You’re not as bad as all that.”

 

Potter is shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think so little of me, Lily. I can’t even- y’know what, it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to show you I’m not the complete arse you think I am. Keep your eyes open this year, Lily. Pads, I’m going to grab my broom and go get some air out on the pitch. You coming?” James turns on his heel and stalks up the stairs to the dorm.

 

“Be right there, mate.” Sirius gets up slowly, stretching a bit as he watches Evans’ eyes follow James up the stairs. She’s scrunching up her nose, looking confused and even a bit hurt.

 

Sirius brushes past her. “Maybe you should try not being a judgmental bint this year, Evans.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Black.” 

 

Sirius bursts into laughter as he climbs the stairs. He’s never heard her curse like that before. He decides he might learn to like Evans after all.

 

**Moony- I long for the days when Prongs was butchering Sex Pistols songs. Ever since we returned from the 100 Club, he’s been reciting that muggle prayer from Siouxsie’s set. One of the muggle-born Ravenclaws overheard him in the library and had the gall to tell him about performance art. Thank Merlin he’s trying to impress Evans this year or else I’d likely find him hanging upside down from the great hall chandelier in his underpants. -Padfoot**

 

_ Pads- No worries, I’ve already talked him off that ledge. He asked me if I thought Lily would be impressed by the feminist aspects of performance art. I convinced him that the feminist movement does not need the contribution of a nude Prongs nailing himself to the quidditch goal posts. Are you excited for your apparition test? It’s coming up in two weeks, right? Are you going to go wild and apparate to Majorca for your birthday weekend? -Moony _

 

**Moony- I am counting the days until my apparition test. Prongs has started tutoring first years in transfiguration, and I have to go three long evenings per week without any entertainment other than pranking our annoying dorm mate who looks like a rat. I blame you for Prongs demonstrating all this new initiative, by the way. Prongs is throwing me a surprise party in Hogsmeade the Saturday after my birthday, as I’m sure you know. Are you going to be able to come? -Padfoot**

 

_ Pads- Of course you know about your own surprise party. Even Prongs told me I didn’t have to try too hard to keep it a secret because you’d figure it out sooner rather than later. Sadly no, I won’t be able to make it. I’m going on an overnight job with Dad that weekend. If you’re looking to practice your apparition, though, maybe we could hang out Wednesday or Thursday? The area by the dumpster behind the shop is where our wizarding patrons apparate in, it’s lousy with muggle repellents and disillusionment charms. -Moony _

 

**Moony- That sounds brilliant, how about that Wednesday the 3rd? I’m taking my test in the afternoon, so assuming I pass, I could pop round after dinner. -Pads**

 

It is seven o’clock in the evening on Wednesday, the third of November when Sirius apparates from the Honeydukes basement to Cokeworth. He pats himself down after he arrives, making sure he hasn’t spliced himself. Remus is leaning against the back wall of the shop, with a white pastry box and a sunny grin.

 

“Alright there, Pads? Made it in one piece?”

 

“Oh please, Moony, I’m naturally brilliant at this, just as I am at everything I do. Nailed the test on the first try.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “Happy birthday, you wanker. Here’s some bloody cake.” He thrusts the box at Sirius, who opens it to find two decadent looking chocolate cupcakes with fluffy frosting and color-changing sprinkles. Sirius looks up and raises one eyebrow.

 

“You’re going to make me give you one of these cupcakes, aren’t you, you selfish prat. What kind of gift is that?”

 

“The kind of gift where I get to eat chocolate, which is the very best kind, Pads.”

 

Sirius snickers. “Alright then, what’s the plan? What’s there to do in scenic Cokeworth on a Wednesday evening?”

 

Remus turns and starts walking out of the alley, motioning for Sirius to come along. “There’s a park nearby with a little clearing where it’s easy to hide from muggles. I figured we could head there. It’s such a nice night out, and I’ve been cooped up inside all day.”

 

Sirius walks beside Remus, sneaking little glances at the tawny haired boy as they walk together in silence. Sirius is feeling a bit nervous. He and Remus have never hung out like this, just the two of them. James has always been there with them. This feels different, in a good way, Sirius thinks, but also in a way that makes his insides a bit twitchy.

 

The arrive at the clearing, the same clearing where the stalked Remus and Evans while they practiced their patronuses. Remus begins throwing up privacy charms, talking as he works. “That latest article draft you send me, the one for the zine, do you think that’s the final draft? It’s brilliant, Pads. I made a few small edits, but I think Perry will have to publish it. It’s too bloody good to ignore. It just needs a catchy title.”

 

Sirius flushes a bit. “Thanks Moony. It’s only brilliant because you helped. I wouldn’t have been able to write a single bloody word without you.”

 

“Piss off, Pads, I didn’t do anything, that article was all you. I think it’s an interesting topic- the dynamics of anarchist politics versus revolutionary politics developing in the community is something quite new. These Clash blokes are going to stir things up a bit, I think.”

 

“Yeah well, you’re the one who has that diary full of quotes from all the shows you go to, I couldn’t have written anything without that as a reference.”

 

Remus is turning pink. “Merlin’s bollocks, Pads, it’s not a diary, it’s a journal! I’m not writing about my feelings or what I ate for breakfast or some such nonsense.”

 

Sirius is smirking. He likes seeing Remus flustered. “You’re such a bloody swot, taking notes at a punk show.”

 

“I don’t take notes! I just- the shows aren’t just about the song lyrics, you know, it’s about these brilliant people getting up there and saying what they feel at that very moment in time, and putting these radical ideas out there, and I just- I want to remember them, is all.”

 

Remus turns away from him to cast a final spell, but Sirius quickly grabs his wrist. Remus’ wrist is quite slender, and Sirius’ fingers are able to wrap around it completely. The pad of his thumb is nestled in Remus’ palm. Remus stops what he’s doing and looks at Sirius’ hand before letting their eyes meet.

 

Sirius clears his throat. “Er, Moony … y’know I’m talking the piss, right? It’s- you know I think you’re brilliant.” Sirius can feel his blood pounding in his ears as his chest tightens a bit.

 

Remus is smiling. “Of course I know that, you wanker. Now c’mon, I was thinking we’d have some dueling practice.” With a flick of his wrist, he hits Sirius with a jelly legs jinx, and Sirius crashes to the ground cursing.

 

They spend the next hour dueling. Sirius loves watching Remus duel, loves seeing him so confident and nimble on his feet. He often stops to give Sirius pointers, which doesn’t bother Sirius at all, even though he usually hates being corrected by people, though of course it happens very rarely.

 

After they finish, Remus sprawls out on the grass and grabs a cupcake, stuffing it into his mouth. Sirius grabs the other cupcake and joins him on the grass, flicking a few of his sprinkles at Remus’ nose. 

 

“Oi! Don’t go wasting perfectly good sprinkles.”

 

“Moony, sprinkles are not good. They don’t taste like anything. They add nothing of value to a cake, taste-wise. Their only purpose is to look pretty and get caught in your teeth.”

 

“Pads, you are a degenerate heathen. What kind of shite palate do you have that you can’t appreciate the finer aspects of sprinkles?”

 

“Fine then, Moony, you tell me, what flavor are these sprinkles?”

 

“They are color-changing flavor, Pads, obviously.”

 

“Oh, obviously, I feel like such a prat now for asking.  _ Color-changing _ is not a flavor, you git.”

 

“It most certainly is, and it’s my favorite flavor, after chocolate.”

 

Sirius snorts and tosses his cupcake wrapper at Remus’ face. Remus catches it, tosses it in the empty pastry box along with his own, and vanishes the whole mess. He lies back on the grass, looking up at the sky with a sigh. Sirius slowly lies back next to him. They are not touching, but they are close enough that they could be, should Sirius decide to reach out and lace his fingers through Remus’, which he does not do. He’s not sure why he’s even thought of that, not sure why he’s still thinking about it-

 

“Padfoot?” Remus’ voice rings clearly through the silence of the evening. 

 

“Yes, Moony?”

 

“Happy birthday, you tosser.”

 

“Thanks, Moony. You git.”

 

The next few weeks fly by. Sirius pops over to visit with Remus more often, sometimes bringing along James, sometimes leaving that bloody git behind to tutor or do some other swotty thing to impress Evans.  They sit in the back room of the shop, plotting pranks and playing music. They muck around in Cokeworth, occasionally popping into pubs with false muggle identification provided by James’ ace transfiguration skills. They practice their dueling, and are working on developing new defensive spells. 

 

Remus is constantly scanning the Daily Prophet for disappearances and mysterious attacks. He is adamant that they be prepared to fend off any Death Eater attacks, should the need arise, and James shares in his concern. James claims he’s just worried about Evans being a muggle-born, and thus more prone to being targeted. Sirius knows that both James and Remus worry about him as well, now that he’s been disowned and is no longer protected by the Black family name. It is bloody annoying, but a small part of him is pleased that they worry. Not that he needs them to worry.

 

It is Thursday, the second of December at half past six in the evening when Sirius fucks everything up.

 

He’s just apparated behind the shop, a bit earlier than usual in his eagerness to get out of the common room before Pettigrew starts pestering him about playing a round of gobstones or something equally inane. Remus is not there yet, but Sirius figures he’ll just sit on the bench outside of the shop and enjoy the cold, crisp night air until he arrives.

 

He’s about to exit the alley when he hears two voices whispering sharply at each other, coming closer. Panicking, he ducks behind the dumpster without thinking, like a git. He peers around the edge of the dumpster to see Remus dragging some bloke into the alley. 

 

Sirius peers closely at this bloke. He’s the same height as Remus, but stockier, with olive skin and green eyes. His black hair is hanging in his eyes, and a thin scar runs down the side of his face. He’s wearing muggle jeans, a jacket and combat boots, all of which look fairly beaten up and scuffed. He and Remus seem to be discussing something, with tense faces and jerky hand gestures, though Sirius can’t hear what they are saying. 

 

Remus does not look happy to see him, and keeps gesturing towards the dumpsters. Probably asking the prat to get the bloody hell out of here, Sirius guesses with a smirk. Sirius panics slightly at the thought of this tough-looking bloke finding him crouched behind the dumpster like a hobo, and considers his options of how to get out of the situation without looking like a git in front of Remus.

 

He stops thinking when he sees the green eyed bloke rest his hands on Remus’ shoulders, a sinister grin spreading across his face. He loses all brain function entirely when the bloke pushes Remus back against the wall and snogs him stupid. 

 

It only lasts a second before Remus is shoving him away, looking upset. Sirius is upset as well. He wants to smash his fist through the brick wall behind him, wants to choke the life out of that fucking bloke with his bare hands, wants to grab Remus by the shoulders and demand to know what the fuck is going on, wants to shove Remus against that fucking wall-

 

He apparates away without thinking about it, sitting in the basement of Honeydukes for an hour or so, still not thinking about it, definitely not thinking about anything that he saw. He’s breathing in and out, in and out, waiting for his heart to stop pounding, which it refuses to do. Eventually he drags himself back through the passageway and up to the dorm, lying in his bed and drawing the curtains. He stares up at his bed canopy for a long time, before drifting into a fitful sleep.

 

_ Pads- Everything okay? You never showed up last night. I had to eat both cupcakes by myself, you tosser. Are we still on for meeting at Hogsmeade on Saturday? -Moony _

 

**Moony- Sorry, I got caught by a prefect and couldn’t make it. Not sure if I’m going to make it to Hogsmeade this weekend. Might have detention. -Padfoot**

 

_ Padfoot- Fine, go ahead and sit in detention and leave me to entertain Prongs all by myself. I’ll have you know, he tells me you’re being a moody git, so he is looking forward to our solo date. We’ll be sure to eat extra scoops at Fortescue’s in your honor. -Moony. _

 

_ Pads- Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you since Friday morning. Did you hear about the Bill Grundy interview? I told Prongs about it today at the Three Broomsticks and he ranted about defending his beloved Siouxsie’s honor for at least forty minutes. He didn’t realize that Lily was sitting behind him and could hear the whole thing. Don’t tell him, but I think she was a bit impressed at his takedown of the patriarchy. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Everything’s fine. I’ve just been busy. Lots of detention lately, and haven’t been getting much sleep. -Padfoot**

 

_ Pads- I understand about not getting much sleep, I had a rough time myself last night. Wish it was Friday instead of Tuesday. I’m ready for the weekend. Any chance you’ll be able to come by this week? -Moony _

 

_ Sirius- I’ve figured it out. You did stop by last week, didn’t you? You saw me with that bloke, and you overheard or saw something that made everything about me crystal clear. You could have just told me, you know. I understand why you wouldn’t want to be around me any longer. It’s not as if you’re wrong to think that way. I actually agree with your sentiment on a certain level. Merlin, even though it would have been nice for you to tell me that you didn’t want to see me again, I understand why you couldn’t. Don’t worry about it, Sirius. You don’t owe me anything. You and James have already given me more than I deserve, and I’ll always be grateful for these past five months. You’re brilliant, Sirius. You always have been and you always will be. -Remus _

 

“Pads? Why the fuck weren’t you at quidditch practice, and why are Pettigrew’s underpants strung up in the common room?” James is barreling into the dorm room, tossing his gear onto the floor haphazardly.

 

Sirius is lying on his back in his bed, staring up blankly. He’s gripping Remus’ latest note in his fist. “I dunno, Prongs. Wasn’t feeling up to it.”

 

James heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Come on Pads, enough is enough. You’ve been a moody prat for the past week. You’ve not been able to pass a single Slytherin without hexing them in plain sight of the teachers, you’ve been racking up detentions like they’re chocolate frogs, you’ve been slacking off at practice when you bother to show up at all, and you’ve been worrying Moony to bits. What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing’s going on, Prongs.”

 

James narrows his eyes. “That’s utter shite, Pads. You know it, I know it. Pettigrew’s pants didn’t march down to the common room on their own accord. I recognize your handiwork. Why’d you torment that git rather than come to practice?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, you do. Why’d you do it, Pads?”

 

“Because I was bored.”

 

“Wrong answer. Why’d you do it, Pads?”

 

“Because I hate that whingy prat.”

 

“Nope. Why’d you do it, Pads?”

 

“Because I saw some bloke snogging Moony and I freaked out and ran away and then acted like a complete fucking arsehole for a week and now Moony thinks I’m some bigoted piece of shite who hates him for being queer and he never wants to see me again and then Pettigrew said hello to me in the corridor and I really,  _ really _ hate that fucking rat, alright? Happy now, Prongs?”

 

Sirius realizes that he’s been shouting and waving his arms in the air like a lunatic. He crumples Remus’ note into one hand and throws it at James before flopping back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. 

 

He hears James smooth open the note, letting out an irritated sigh once he’s done reading it.

 

“Padfoot, look at me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Padfoot, sit the fuck up and look at me or I’ll charm your bloody hair orange.”

 

Sirius glares as he shoves himself into a sitting position against the headboard. He’s fairly sure that James would not dare to touch his hair, not after the way Sirius retaliated the last time he did it in third year, but he’s not going to take any chances.

 

James sits on the bed gingerly, folding his legs so that he is face to face with Sirius. “Padfoot, why were you so upset about seeing Moony snogging that bloke?”

 

Sirius frowns in consternation. “I just … I’m not sure, Prongs. Don’t give me any shite for saying that, because it’s the truth. I just didn’t like seeing it. It made me feel bloody awful, but- but not because of me thinking it was wrong, or that Moony was disgusting, or anything like that. I can’t explain it Prongs, and if I can’t even explain it to myself, what in bloody hell am I supposed to tell Moony?”

 

James is biting his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “Look, Pads, there’s something I need to tell you. Merlin knows I’ve been thinking about telling you this for a while now, but I just- I didn’t know how you’d react. I know we’re brothers, and nothing will ever change that, but still, it’s a hard thing to talk about, y’know?”

 

Sirius wrinkles his nose. “No, I don’t know, because you haven’t told me what you’re talking about yet, you git.”

 

James locks eyes with Sirius, looking quite earnest. “Padfoot, the reason why you didn’t like seeing that bloke snog Moony is because  _ you _ want to snog Moony.”

 

Sirius blinks. “Er, what? What are you talking about, Prongs?”

 

James places his hands on Sirius’ shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “Siri, you’re queer. You like blokes, not birds, and you’ve been gagging for Moony since you first laid eyes on him.”

 

Sirius doesn’t respond. He mulls over James’ words, thinking about the first time he saw Remus, the first time Remus laughed at James being a git, those stupid sprinkles sticking to his nose, those soft curls brushing against his cheek. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

 

“How- how do you know? How long have you known?”

 

“Well, it’s been in the back of my mind for the past few years, y’know, just from picking up on little things, but I knew for sure that day we first stalked Moony at the shop. He came out of the back room and you lit up like a fucking dragon had set you aflame.”

 

Sirius is scowling now. He shoves James off the bed, ignoring his yelps of pain, leaping up to tower over him. “You fucking arsehole. You’ve known that long and you’ve never said anything? You just let me bumble along unawares? I thought we were brothers!” 

 

James is getting to his feet, glaring back at Sirius. “Fuck off, Pads, it’s not an easy conversation to have! I didn’t know how you’d take it! I didn’t know if you’d punch me, or hex me, or tell me I was crazy.”

 

“Well thanks a lot for dragging it out, Prongs! Now Moony hates me and it’s your bloody fault, all of this is your fucking fault!”

 

James bursts into laughter. “It’s my fault that you’re bent? What the fuck, Pads? Did my luscious arse become too tempting for you to ignore?”

 

Sirius is fuming. James is the fucking worst. “You wish your arse was that alluring, you great bloody prat. No, it’s your bloody fault for not telling me I fancied Moony. How the fuck was I supposed to figure that out on my own?”

 

James is flopping down onto Sirius’ bed now, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. Sirius wants to kick him in the ribs. “Can you even hear yourself right now, Pads? You’re- I can’t even- aughhhh!!!” He stops laughing as he’s hit by Sirius’ bat bogey hex.

 

Sirius sits back down on the bed. His head is spinning. He fancies Remus. He’s bent and he fancies Remus. Fuck. He lets out a pained groan and drops his head into his hands. “Prongs, this is bloody terrible. This is completely fucking terrible.”

 

James, recovered from his hex but still looking quite irritated, shifts over gently until he’s sitting next to Sirius. “Pads, it’s not terrible. There’s nothing wrong with being queer, it doesn’t change-”

 

“Sod off, Prongs, I don’t care about that. Really, it explains quite a bit, doesn’t it? No, Moony is the terrible part. I fancy Moony. I fancy my best mate. Merlin’s bollocks, what am I supposed to do?”

 

“You’re supposed to tell him you fancy him.”

 

Sirius grits his teeth. James is such a twat. “Tell him? Why would I fucking tell him? He doesn’t fancy me back. It’d be so bloody awkward.”

 

“He does too fancy you back.”

 

“How do you know, you git? Did he tell you something? What else are you keeping from me?”

 

James rolls his eyes. “No, he hasn’t said anything, but I have eyes, you know. Merlin’s bollocks, am I the only wizard in the UK who’s able to recognize fucking romance when I see it? Moony’s quite sneaky about it, but he’s always giving you these little glances when he thinks you aren’t looking. Y’know, Moony-peeping.”

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, we need to stop letting you choose nicknames for stuff.”

 

“Stuff it, Pads, you love it. Anyway, just tell him you fancy him, he’ll tell you he fancies you back, you’ll snog, and I’ll make gagging noises in the background whilst cheering you on.”

 

“Why the fuck would you be there when I'm bloody telling him- ah, forget it. I can’t do it, Prongs. Even if he did feel the same way, I can’t be with him. What if my family found out? They may have disowned me, but that doesn’t mean they’ll allow me to flaunt my deviant lifestyle without punishment. I don’t care what they say or do to me, but I won’t let them near Moony. Remember my Uncle Alphard? He’s queer, came out later in life, but the last boyfriend he had openly was in ‘65, and that bloke ended up losing six fingers, two toes and an eye.”

 

James shrugs. “So you two can keep it under wraps for now. It’s not anyone’s business anyway. Or are you telling me you’re going to be a lonely celibate your entire life? At least Moony can hold his own in a duel. He’d probably only lose two fingers and one toe, and he’d look quite dashing in an eye patch.”

 

Sirius glares at James. “Brilliant plan, Prongs. I’ll just pop on over to see Moony right now and say, hey Moony, I fancy you, are you interested in snogging and holding hands in secret for a few years until my bint mum either bites it or hexes you to bits? What bloke could resist that?”

 

James presses his lips into a thin line. “It’s a hell of a lot better than what you’re saying to him right now.”

 

“I’m not saying anything right now.”

 

“Exactly, and your silence is saying, hey Moony, you were right about me being a bigoted prat who hates you for being bent, please stay out of my life forever because I’m a cowardly piece of shite.”

 

Sirius cringes. James is right. He can’t leave things as they are. He has to tell Moony the truth. Even if Moony doesn’t feel the same way, surely he’ll be gentle with Sirius, as he always is. Surely he’ll still want to be Sirius’ friend. He’s a Marauder now, after all, and Marauders are forever.

 

Sirius stalks over to James’ school bag to steal a quill. “Prongs, go take a shower, you smell like a troll that’s been dead for three days. I’ve got a letter to write.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on Sirius' side when it comes to sprinkles, but I also think color-changing ones would be the very best ones.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Next chapter should be up on Friday.


	5. December 1976

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creepers and confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for brief discussion of past homophobia and violence

**Moony- I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’ve been a complete prat and it’s nothing to do with you. Please let me see you this Friday. -Your Padfoot**

 

_ Pads- Of course. We should talk. Just let me know what time to expect you. No pressure if you change your mind. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’ll be there at seven sharp. I’ll bring the cupcakes this time. I owe you more than that, but it’s a start. -Pads**

 

It is Friday, the tenth of December, at six o’clock in the evening, and Sirius is about to spew all over Pettigrew’s bed. He has spent the last three hours pacing the dorm, skipping his last class claiming a stomach ache, which wasn’t a complete lie. He has spent the past twenty four hours prior to that writing out what he will say to Remus, and attempting to predict what Remus will say in response. 

 

At first, Sirius was reciting his speech drafts to James, but after James made one too many kissy faces and Sirius shot one too many hexes, it was mutually decided that this is something Sirius should do on his own. Sirius grudgingly wishes he could talk to Evans, but he’s not sure how much Remus has told her about the situation, and he’s not daft enough to approach Evans when she’s at an unknown anger level.

 

Dealing with an angry James had been bad enough. Once he’d wheedled the full story from Sirius, James had been absolutely furious.

 

“So what you’re telling me, Padfoot, is that you saw a rough-looking bloke pin a distressed Moony to the wall and snog him against his will, and then you just FUCKING LEFT HIM ALONE WITH THAT CREEPER? Why are we doing all of this defense training if you're not going to have our fucking backs when shite goes down? Merlin’s bollocks, I hope I never meet a Death Eater while I’m out with you, you absolute fucking git, you’ll probably just apparate away like a bloody coward. What sort of Gryffindor are you?”

 

Sirius’ stomach gives another lurch as he remembers James’ harsh but fair assessment. He  _ has _ been a coward. He’s been a bloody fucking obtuse coward this whole time and Remus is the one who’s been suffering for it. How is he supposed to convince Remus to take a chance on him when even Sirius himself knows he’s not worth it?

 

Sirius swings by the kitchens on his way to Hogsmeade to pick up his specially requested cupcakes. The house elves have packaged the cakes in an embarrassingly gaudy red and gold trimmed box stamped with the Gryffindor crest. He paces the Honeydukes basement impatiently until it is exactly one minute to seven, at which time he promptly apparates over to the shop, the stupid bloody pastry box gripped tightly in his hands.

 

Remus is waiting for him in the alley, wrapped in a cardigan as per usual. His hands are shoved into his pockets, and his curls are all over the place thanks to the wind. He smiles at Sirius, but it’s a guarded smile, lacking some of his usual warmth. Sirius swallows nervously as he returns the smile as best he can. 

 

“Aren’t you cold?” Merlin’s pants, he’s spent endless bloody hours worrying about what he’ll say to Remus, what words will convey to Remus what he’s feeling, and the only fucking thing he can say is that? Sirius feels like an utter git.

 

Remus shrugs. “Warming charm. We’re going inside anyway. Unless you aren’t staying?” He’s biting his bottom lip, causing Sirius’ brain to go a bit loopy.

 

“I don’t hate you for being queer. I never have.” It’s a bloody terrible start, but it’s a start at the very least.

 

Remus looks a bit bewildered. “Er, I never thought you did, Pads, you’ve certainly never given any indication of that, and … is- is that what you thought I meant? Merlin, Pads, I wouldn’t think that about you.”

 

It is Sirius’ turn to be confused. “What did you mean in that note then, about me not wanting to be around you because of what happened last week? I saw that bloke snog you and then I ran off like a bloody prat, what else could you have thought?”   
  


Remus’ eyes are wide now, and he looks genuinely distressed. “You didn’t hear- you didn’t hear any part of our conversation?” Remus’ hands are out of his pockets now, pulling his cardigan tighter around his body like a shield. “You have no idea, then? But then- why did you run away at all?”

 

Sirius is fairly certain that something is being lost in translation, but one thing he’s extremely certain of is that Remus looks as if he’s about to come apart at the seams. Shifting the pastry box into one hand, he walks hastily over to Remus and wraps his free arm around those thin shoulders, pulling him into a firm side hug, taking a brief moment to rest his cheek against Remus’ curls one more time before stepping away to give the shorter boy some space.

 

“Let’s- let’s go inside, Moony, and we’ll talk. I could use a cuppa, and I know you could as well, you fussy old grandpa.”

 

A small smirk appears on Remus’ face, causing Sirius to relax very slightly. Remus looks down at the box in Sirius’ hand for the first time, noticing the frilly trimming and elaborate embossing.

 

“That’s quite a posh box you’ve got there, Pads. Is that for me or are you swinging by for tea with the Minister’s spinster aunt after this?”

 

“Stuff it, Moony. Oh shite- no, I meant- bollocks- this is the worst fucking apology of all time.” Sirius’ complete mortification shows plainly on his face. He locks eyes with Remus, neither of them speaking for a moment before bursting simultaneously into laughter.

 

“Awww. Isn’t this cozy, Rem?”

 

Sirius and Remus both turn sharply as a third voice echos in the alley. Sirius narrows his eyes menacingly as he recognizes the green eyed bloke from last week standing at the alley entrance. He’s wearing the same scruffy getup as last time, with that same nasty fucking grin that makes Sirius want to punch him until he hears bone cracking. 

 

“I suppose this is why you couldn’t run with us on Monday, eh? Found yourself another pup to fuck around with?” The green eyed bloke hasn’t moved forward at all, but Sirius notices that Remus has unconsciously shifted into a subtle defensive stance. Sirius automatically does the same, grateful that his wand hand is free. 

 

Every instinct in his body is screaming at him to hex this bloke into next week, but before he can make a move, he notices Remus’ left hand hanging at his side. All five fingers are stretched out straight, with his pinkie and ring fingers pressed tightly together. It’s one of the signals the Marauders have gone over numerous times during their defense practices. It’s the signal that James has dubbed, “stay the fuck back, you wankers, and let me bloody handle this or so help me, especially you, Padfoot,” or “sit boy,” for short.

 

“It’s not like that, Dominic, and it wouldn’t be any business of yours even if it was.” Remus’ voice is calm and even, with a slightly menacing edge to it that sends a chill down Sirius’ spine.

 

The green eyed bloke takes a step closer, but stops when Remus makes a movement towards his wand. He raises his hands in the air, wearing that fucking awful grin of his. Sirius realizes that he’s older than them, maybe in his mid twenties, which is old enough for Sirius’ stomach to churn at the memory of last week and the implications of this bloke's earlier comment.

 

This green eyed bloke is creepy enough, with his scar and his scuffed boots and his shifty fucking grin, but when he turns towards Sirius, lifting his head slightly and  _ sniffing the air _ like some sort of pervert, Sirius grits his teeth to bite back a growl. 

 

The bloody prat raises his eyebrows. “What’s this, now? This one’s not one of us. Well, not one of me, anyway. Is he one of your fellow stick wavers?”

 

“No.” Remus answers quickly. “He’s just a regular bloke, alright? Just a mate stopping by. No need to flap your mouth and get yourself into trouble. Run along and we’ll talk later.”

 

Merlin’s bollocks, Sirius hates seeing that fucking creepy prat looking so smug. He’s looking back and forth between Remus and Sirius, smirking.

 

“He doesn’t know, does he? Just some muggle who has no idea what sort of beast you are. Why’d you bother, Rem? You know it won’t last once he knows what you are and then you’ll have to zap him. Or are you not planning on keeping him around long enough? If you’ve changed on that front, Rem, I’m really digging the new vibe, but in that case it’s definitely time to let go of this chew toy and run with the real wolves.”

 

“Dominic,  _ stop talking _ , unless you fancy a run-in with the authorities.”

 

“Oh come on, Rem, I’m not breaking any statutes. If he’s not a stick waver, he doesn’t know what we’re talking about. His only frame of reference for us is fairy tales.”

 

Sirius is pressing his lips together tightly, willing himself to calm down and obey Remus’ signal, sit boy, sit boy, bloody sit Padfoot, but his mind is racing. What in bloody hell is going on? What isn’t he understanding? What sort of creature is this bloody green eyed git if he’s not a muggle and not a wizard, and why won’t he stop talking about wolves and just fucking leave-

 

Sirius inhales sharply. Remus tenses at the noise, and his hands tremble slightly. 

 

_ Werewolf _ .

 

No one says the word aloud. There’s no need to. 

 

The green eyed git is laughing now, a mocking noise that echoes against the brick walls of the alley and cuts through Sirius like a knife. “The chew toy’s not as daft as he looks, eh? What sort of game are you playing here, Rem? Not that it matters, he’ll not want to play with you anymore now that his sluggish little brain has figured it out.”

 

Sirius bristles at this. He’s been called innumerable types of uncomplimentary things in his life, but  _ unintelligent _ has never been one of them. At the very least, he’s certainly more intelligent than this fucking git who can’t even tell that Sirius is a wizard. Why in bloody hell isn’t Remus telling this bloke to piss off?

 

Sirius glances over at Remus, and his blood runs cold. Remus is shaking. His head is ducked, his shoulders are hunching up, his arms are wrapped around his middle. Sirius can see his fingers grasping desperately at the sides of his cardigan. Remus is panicking. Remus does not bloody  _ panic _ . He’s the one who remains cool under pressure, the one who always reminds Sirius to think before he hexes, the one who hammers into them during defense practices, don’t react, stick to the plan.

 

“Oi, chew toy, what’ve you got there in that box? Christ, where’d you find something so atrocious? You swing by an old lady sewing circle before you came here?”

 

That’s the last bloody straw. Sirius isn’t going to stay here and listen to one more fucking word. He steps forward quickly, whipping out his wand and wrapping that arm around Remus, holding the shorter boy tightly to his chest as they apparate away before the green eyed git knows what’s happening.

 

Half a second later they’re in the clearing at the Cokeworth park. Sirius steps back, allowing Remus to drop his hands to his knees and let out a few heavy breaths. Sirius gives him only a few seconds before gripping Remus by the shoulders and pulling him up to meet his gaze.

 

“Moony, focus for a second. Where can we go? Where won’t he find us?”

 

Remus looks confused for a second, then presses his lips together, standing up straight and taking a calm, even breath.

 

“Here is fine. He’s never been here, and I know a few muggle repellent charms that work on- his kind. Just let me …” Remus trails off and starts casting protective charms around the clearing. Sirius places the daft pastry box on the ground gently- he’ll be damned if he fucks up those cupcakes now, after all this shite- and raises his wand to provide backup if needed.

 

Once the clearing is secured, Remus walks over to face Sirius. He’s not meeting Sirius’ gaze. Sirius feels like an awkward git. He needs Remus to calm down, needs him to feel comfortable, needs him to smile again.

 

“Moony, let’s … let’s sit down, yeah?” Sirius sets himself down on the grass, casting a few warming charms and patting the spot next to him.

 

Remus nods, coming over slowly and sitting down next to Sirius, stretching his legs out and dropping his hands to his lap where they begin to fiddle with the edge of his cardigan. Sirius notices that this is one of Remus’ cardigans with the daft elbow patches, and he can’t help but let a small, pleased grin sneak onto his face for just a second.

 

After a long silence, Remus clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Pads. I thought you knew. I wouldn’t have- I didn’t plan on just springing this on you.”

 

Sirius doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing. Remus sighs and continues. “When you were acting so withdrawn, I assumed that you’d overheard my conversation with- him, and that you’d connected the dots. I was so sure that you never wanted to see me again, but then you asked to meet up, and James sent me that obscenely large Honeydukes chocolate bar with a note saying that no matter what, Marauders are forever, and I thought- I hoped that you’d decided that it was okay, that you still wanted …” 

 

Remus trails off. Sirius grits his teeth because if that bloody git James has already fucked this up for him with something he said in that note, he’ll hex the prat’s nose right off his face.

 

“Regardless, I thought you’d had time to think about it, digest it, but you clearly haven’t. You should go back to school, Pads, take some time to mull things over, chat with Prongs and … and we can talk later, if you’d like. If not, that’s alright as well. I meant what I wrote in that note, Padfoot. I understand if you and Prongs aren’t comfortable around me any longer.”

 

Sirius is scowling now. “Merlin’s pants, Moony. I don’t need any time, and neither will Prongs. Honestly, you’re such a swot sometimes. Not everything needs to be analyzed and dissected. I don’t think any differently of you, and neither will Prongs, so let’s just move on.”

 

Remus turns sharply to face Sirius. “Pads, don’t be daft. I’m aware that you and Prongs come from pureblood families, Merlin knows what sorts of things you believe about- my kind, and not all of those things are false, you know. You can’t just-”

 

“Moony, does Evans know you’re a werewolf?” Remus cringes slightly as Sirius says the word aloud for the first time.

 

“Well, yes, but she’s-”

 

“And she accepts you?”

 

“Yes, she does, but that doesn’t mean-”

 

“Alright then, seeing as you and Evans are both the worst sort of swots, I’m assuming that you’ve already detailed to her in great length all the issues with befriending werewolves, and she’s systematically discredited each one, correct?”

 

Remus flushes at this. “Fine, yes, you are correct, she did some research and drew up a-”

 

Sirius bursts into laughter. “Merlin’s bollocks, Moony, why am I not surprised? This is brilliant. Alright then, if she’s already done all that bloody work, then there’s no need to have the same conversation twice when we already know what the outcome will be. Prongs and I will read whatever report Evans has whipped up for informational purposes, if it’ll make you feel better, but-”

 

“Merlin’s pants, it wasn’t a bloody  _ report _ , Pads, she just-”

 

“Fine, fine, settle down, Moony. It’s not going to change the way we feel about you, Moony. Nothing could. You’re a Marauder, and … and I … that is to say … er, I don’t …”

 

Sirius trails off, leaving Remus staring at him incredulously, one eyebrow raised. Sirius realizes he must sound like a completely daft git. Before he can talk to Remus, however, he realizes he needs some clarity.

 

“Moony, what was that fucking creeper bloke even doing here? How d’you know him? What does he want with you? Is he- is he threatening you, are you in danger?”

 

Remus exhales heavily. “No, I’m not in any immediate danger, per se. He … he and I used to see each other.”

 

Sirius’ stomach churns at the thought. “How did you end up with a great fucking prat like that? Merlin’s pants, Moony, he’s old and shifty and a complete twat.”

 

Remus laughs without humor. “Yes, he is all of those things. I met him in Soho this past January, we recognized each other right away, as- as werewolves. He was a muggle when he was bitten, so it’s not quite the same thing, but- anyway, we got to talking. He was kind to me at the time, understanding, a little dangerous- I was fifteen and an idiot, and he knew exactly what to say to get me interested.”

 

The churning in Sirius’ stomach is now causing him physical pain. He longs to scream that he doesn’t want to hear another bloody word, but he bites his tongue and lets Remus continue.

 

“It’s a common teenage relationship story, I suppose. We started seeing each other, I thought we were in an exclusive relationship, it turns out that he didn’t think or want the same, which he made very clear to me when I resisted his advances to- go farther, er, physically than I was comfortable with at the time. He sneered at me and told me I had to either give him what he wanted, as well as allow him to continue to shag his way through London, or he’d leave. He pointed out that if I was daft enough to want a real relationship, I’d have to realize that only another werewolf would accept me for what I am, and there isn’t exactly a long queue of openly queer werewolves to choose from-”

 

“FUCK!” Sirius rises to his feet, his head dizzy with rage as he leaps up, turning to punch a tree trunk as hard as he can. He feels his hand explode into a mess of torn skin and broken bone, blood spurting onto his jacket.

 

“Padfoot! Merlin’s bollocks- calm down, Pads, come here!” Remus is grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him back down to the ground with that surprising strength, werewolf strength, Sirius supposes. Remus grabs his demolished hand, turning it over and healing it with a few quick spells. A few cleansing spells remove the blood. Sirius attempts to reign in his anger as he watches Remus bending each of his fingers carefully, running his own long digits over the skin, checking his spellwork.

 

“Padfoot. Don’t do that again.” Remus’ voice is stern, but there’s a slight tremor running through it, indicating that he is not as calm as he’s trying to appear. Sirius takes a deep breath, shaking his head.

 

“I won’t. Sorry, Moony, I just … what happened next, after he told you- that?”

 

Remus smiles, and it’s a warm smile this time, a happy smile, the smile Sirius has been waiting for. “Lily happened. We’d been friends for awhile by that point, I’d told her about- everything, and she told me … well she told me to hex his bollocks off, but also that I- that he wasn’t correct about me not being able to find someone else, and that even if I didn’t believe that I could, it was still better to be happy on my own than miserable with him. She was right, as always. I ended it, not that he cared much by that point. He buggered off, and I didn’t see him again until last week.”

 

“Was he trying to get back together? Is that why he snogged you?”

 

Remus snorts. “He snogged me to be a bloody prat, that’s all. Not that I suppose he’d turn me down if I wanted a shag, but that’s not why he came. Full moon was this past Monday. He was attempting to convince me to run with him and his pack during the transformation.”

 

“Pack?”

 

“Most werewolves aren’t like me, Pads, they live on the fringes, caught between muggle and wizard societies, unable to fully participate in either. They tend to form packs, live together, transform together, that sort of thing.”

 

“Like communities, then? And that’s not good, or not what you want?”

 

Remus sighs. “Many of the packs …. They get a bit fanatical about embracing the wolf and all that. Many of them, muggle and wizard alike, were shunned by their original families when they were turned. There’s a lot of bitterness and anger. I can’t speak for all packs, of course, but from what I’ve seen, that’s not a life for me. I transform on my own, in a little wooded area out in the countryside that’s warded for protection. The owner of the shop I work in, Mr. Spencer, his wife was a werewolf. She was a muggle who was bitten later in life, but Mr. Spencer didn’t leave her. He set up the woods for her, took care of her during transformations. She died of a stroke a few years back. That’s why we moved to Cokeworth. Dad got rid of a boggart for Mr. Spencer, they got to talking, and now I’ve been able to live in one place and transform safely in the fresh air for the past year. Mr. Spencer is grooming me to take over the shop one day. I’ve met Lily, and Prongs, and you. Things are … good.”

 

Remus pauses briefly, drumming his fingers on his knee for a moment before continuing. “Voldemort is targeting the packs. He wants them on his side. Werewolves who are also wizards, like me, are especially sought after. Even amongst wizarding werewolves, very few of them are trained. That’s why he came last week. That’s why he wants me to run with his pack. His pack is in discussions with Voldemort, and recruiting a fully trained wizard to offer as an attack dog would impress his leaders. I’d be quite the prize.”

 

Remus’ voice is twinged with bitterness. Sirius feels like a complete fucking git. He’s been whinging like a prat about the bloke he fancies, while Remus has been dealing with actual threats, threats that Sirius wasn’t there to shield him from. Sirius is a bloody worthless coward who doesn’t deserve a bloke like Moony. Moony, whose first concerns tonight were about Sirius’ comfort, whether or not Sirius was okay, fixing Sirius’ stupid fucking hand that he injured himself like a complete tosser.

 

“Evans was right, Moony. You’re too good for that bloke. You’re too good for his bloody Death Eater pack. You deserve someone who will be as kind as you, as brave as you.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “Don’t we all, Pads, but we don’t generally get what we deserve, good or bad. I’m happy, Pads. I’ve got mates now, real ones. I’ve got parents who love me. I don’t need a bloke.”

 

“Don’t talk like that, Moony, we’ll find you someone, a bloke worthy of the honor of dating a Marauder.”

 

“It’s not that simple, Pads.”

 

“Well it might take some time, we do have very high standards of course, but-”

 

“No Pads, you don’t get it.” Remus’ voice is sharp now, causing Sirius’ insides to twist. “It’s brilliant that you and Prongs are so supportive, and I appreciate it more than you know, but you just don’t understand. When you’re a bloke looking for another bloke, it’s dangerous to put yourself out there. If you go and try to chat up a bird and she’s not interested, the worst you’ll get is a no. Look at how badly Prongs has annoyed Lily, and the worst he’s ever gotten is a lecture and a few hexes. If I try to chat up the wrong bloke, I could get killed, Pads.”

 

Sirius feels the blood draining from his face. “Moony, no, we’d never let that happen. Fuck, Moony, I know my family’s mental about stuff like that, but it’s the seventies, surely it can’t be that bad?”

 

“It can be that bad, Pads. Maybe not always, maybe not even usually, but it can be. It’s a risk that’s hard to calculate. Merlin, Pads, even if the bloke’s interested, that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Once this bloke chatted me up, a little awkward, but nice. He pulled me into an alley and gave me a snog, then he went off about how he wasn’t really bent. Beat the stuffings out of me and went on his way.”

 

It takes every ounce of what little self control Sirius possesses to keep himself from going a second round with that fucking tree.

 

“Moony, please tell me you hexed his bollocks off.”

 

“I was barely fifteen, Pads, and he was a muggle. The rules about underage magic for homeschooled kids are a bit dodgy, but hexing muggles who snog you is generally frowned upon, I would think.”

 

“But he-”

 

“Do you honestly think the ministry would care? They’d just lecture me about not getting myself into that sort of situation. It did encourage me to practice my defensive spells more, so there’s some good that came from it. That’s why I’m a whiz at muggle repellent charms. I can even cast a small one nonverbally, so if it happens again at least I have the chance to get away before the situation gets out of hand.”

 

“Bloody hell, Moony, how could anyone- you’re so- fuck, Moony, why are there so many fucking arseholes out there?” Sirius is nearly apoplectic. Remus reaches out and places his hand over Sirius’ own hand, which is balled into a fist and pressed firmly against the ground.

 

“Let’s not talk about it, Pads. The past is the past. I’m safe right now, here with you. Thank you, by the way, for getting us out of there. I, er, got a bit flustered.” Remus is blushing, the beginnings of that brilliant smile playing at the corners of his lips as his warm amber eyes meet Sirius’ cool silver ones. Sirius feels everything draining from him, the anger, the shame, the self-loathing, the fear, leaving behind only a warm, safe feeling welling up in his chest.

 

“You don’t have to thank me, Moony. We looked out for each other tonight. It was a team effort.”

 

Remus smiles widely now. The warmth in Sirius’ chest swells higher to tinge his cheeks pink.

 

“We make a good team, Pads. Now come on, you tosser, you never did tell me. What got you so upset last week, and why did you come tonight?”

 

Again, Sirius doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing. He doesn’t say one word as he gently cups Remus’ cheeks in his hands, pulling him close enough so that he can lightly press their lips together.

 

It is quick and chaste, lasting no more than half a second, but that’s more than enough time for Sirius to lose his breath completely. Sirius wants to melt into Remus, wrap his arms around him and pull him closer, but he doesn’t. He’ll not take anything that Remus isn’t ready and willing to give him. He won’t be like the others. He pulls away from Remus, dropping his hands to his lap, not letting their eyes break contact.

 

Remus has a guarded expression on his face. He reaches up with one hand to brush the tips of his fingers across his lips, but he doesn’t say a word. Sirius wills himself to stop shaking like a bloody leaf, but he’s never felt this vulnerable before. The Potters have stampeded into Sirius’ life, thrusting their love and acceptance at him unrequested- though very much appreciated- but he’s never asked for something like this before, never laid himself bare for someone else to gut at their leisure. This unfamiliar feeling combined with the memory of Remus’ lips on his own is making him feel wobbly.

 

“Why would you do that?” 

 

Sirius calms himself a bit at Remus’ response. It’s not as good as the best scenario he had imagined, where Remus swoons into his arms and peppers him with kisses, but it’s a bit better than the middling scenario where Remus punches him in the face, and it’s far better than the absolute fucking worst case scenario where Remus laughs uproariously.

 

“I answered your questions.”

 

Remus looks genuinely surprised now, eyebrows reaching to his hairline. “Er, that doesn’t really answer any questions, Pads, it just … raises further questions.”

 

Sirius scowls. “No, it doesn’t, I … apparently I’m bent, and I fancy you, so … that’s why.”

 

“Apparently?”

 

“ _ No _ , Merlin’s bollocks-  _ definitely _ , I am  _ definitely _ bent and I  _ definitely _ fancy you.”

 

Remus looks even more confused than before. Sirius is growing frustrated as his words tie into knots around his tongue like he’s been bloody confunded.

 

“I fancy you, Moony. I wanted to let you know, so here I am, doing just that, in the most bloody awkward way possible. Do you … could you fancy me back? Have you ever considered it?”

 

A bemused grin spreads across Remus face as he bursts into a fit of giggles. Sirius promises himself that when he returns to Hogwarts, he will jump from the window of the astronomy tower and take that fucking prat James along with him for convincing him to go through with this bloody disaster.

 

There must be something in his expression that alerts Remus to the fact that Sirius’ thoughts are running towards self-destruction and fratricide, because Remus quickly bites back his laughter and grabs Sirius’ hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly.

 

“I’m sorry, Pads, I didn’t mean to laugh. You asked me if I’d ever considered … us, together, and … Merlin’s pants, Padfoot, of course I’ve never considered it.” Sirius attempts to pull his hand away, but Remus grips it even tighter. 

 

“No, Pads, I don’t mean it like that- bollocks, I’m terrible at this as well.  _ Apparently _ . What I mean is, I never considered that someone like you would fancy me, so I never saw the point in thinking about it. You’re bloody brilliant, Pads, you’re kind, you’re fiercely loyal, you’re brave, you’ve a wicked sense of humor, you’re ridiculously smart, you share my interests- and you know you’re good looking, you vain prat. But up until about five minutes ago, I thought you liked birds and hated relationships, and those are pretty significant roadblocks for a queer bloke looking to fancy you, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Sirius smiles shakily. His heart is still pounding, and his head is spinning, but at least he’s fairly confident that he’s no longer in danger of fainting like a bloody Victorian era bint.

 

“Moony, if those roadblocks weren’t there, would you ever be able to fancy me?”

 

Remus smiles back, but there’s still something uncertain in his expression. “Well, when you say you fancy me- what exactly do you mean? This must all be new to you, and if you’re just looking for a one-off, or if you’re curious about being with a bloke, I’d understand, but I’m not sure if I’d be comfortable-”

 

Sirius yanks his hand away from Remus’, grabbing the stupid bloody pastry box that he’s been dragging around all evening and thrusting it into Remus’ arms with a huff.

 

Remus takes a minute to smirk one more time at the gaudy trimmings before he carefully opens the box. His eyes widen when he sees what’s inside, but he doesn’t say a word for quite a long time, long enough for Sirius to promise himself that when he finally recovers from Remus’ rejection, in forty years or so, and is ready to try again with another bloke, he will swallow his bloody pride and go to Evans for advice rather than that fucking wanker James who’s going to get hexed bald when Sirius gets back for assuring him that these were a good idea.

 

Inside the box are two cupcakes, chocolate, of course, with mounds of fluffy frosting. Each cupcake is topped with color-changing sprinkles, swirling in various shades of silver, the colors of a patronus. Half of the sprinkles are shaped like tiny dogs, and half are shaped like tiny wolves. Each dog is paired with a wolf, with noses touching and tails charmed to wag happily. 

 

Eventually, Remus looks up at Sirius, meeting his gaze once again. Sirius is holding his breath, fists pressed painfully hard into the dirt. Remus carefully closes the box back up, placing it to his side. He stands up, brushing off the knees of his trousers before walking over and sitting down behind Sirius, stretching a leg out on either side of him. Reaching forward a bit, Remus wraps his arms around Sirius, pulling him backwards tightly against his chest. He rests his head on Sirius’ shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

 

Sirius exhales shakily and turns to bury his face into the soft, tawny curls that are brushing against his cheek. Every inhale steadies him a bit further, until eventually he is no longer trembling, and they are sitting together peacefully, quietly.

 

Sirius has to start saving his galleons, because he’s buying that magnificent fucking prat James the Holyhead Harpies for his next birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about halfway through! Second half of the story will have more angst, but more fluff as well, so it should balance out. Next chapter should be up on Sunday.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! They keep me motivated :)


	6. January 1977

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snogging and shoelaces.
> 
> "See? Billy Idol gets it. I don't know why she doesn't get it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobic remarks. Also, things get physical, physical, in a tasteful (I hope) way at some points, so if you're not into that, then don't follow Sirius and Remus into the garden or the bedroom.

**Moony- I’m still irritated at you for making me come back to Hogwarts instead of agreeing to become roadies like I wanted us to. That would’ve been an ace holiday gift, but you blew it, though I suppose the boss combat boots that I will wear every bloody day for the rest of my life were an acceptable gift as well. The real gift that keeps on giving is the tshirt you got for Prongs. He got into an argument with McGonagall at the welcome feast because she thought the women’s lib symbol paired with the “anyone can do it” slogan was referencing something pervy. Remembering the look on her face when Prongs told her “not all fisting is sexual, my dear Minnie” will be a source of joy for years to come. Hope tonight’s camping trip goes smoothly. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- Camping trip this month was no worse than usual. You are too much of a lazy sod to be a roadie. We’d be kicked off the tour bus and abandoned on some lonely country road after the first show and Prongs would have to come to our rescue. He’d mock us mercilessly until you hexed him with a permanent silencing charm, and then you’d get sent to Azkaban. I’d break you out and we’d have to go on the lam for the rest of our lives. This is why I’m always telling you to think things through, Pads. Prongs says you two are still on for Saturday’s show at the Roxy. Would you be able to floo to my house in the afternoon so we could head out from here? My mum wants to meet you two. Also, just so you know, I’ve started charming your notes so that only you can read them. You’ll know if anyone else tries. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Is that why Prongs is walking around with “PRAT” charmed on his forehead? He got all shirty when I asked about it. This is why I would never be convicted for permanently silencing Prongs. More likely, I’d receive an Order of Merlin, score a book deal, and become a highly sought after celebrity. We’d be able to lead a luxurious life of debauchery and scandal, feasting on cupcakes made from our private chocolate reserves. That’s how you think things through properly, you twat. Yes, we are still on for Saturday. Prongs is still skeptical about seeing bands with such boring names- “since when are Jam and Wire punk names, Pads”- but we can always lock him in the loo if he gets annoying. We are fine to come to your house first, just let us know what time we should be there. I did want to clarify two things: 1. Do your mum and dad know I’m your boyfriend? Is that how I’ll be introduced? 2. Are we actually boyfriends? Prongs calls us that, but he’s a world class git, and you and I have never really said anything about it. If the answer is no, I would politely ask that you forget I ever said anything, or I will permanently hex your stupid fucking reading glasses to your face the next time I see you. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- We don’t need to be famous to lead a life of debauchery and scandal. The private chocolate reserves sound ace, though. Yes, my parents know you are my boyfriend. Yes, we are boyfriends. See you on Saturday at six for dinner, you daft mutt. -Moony _

 

**My most precious Moonykins- Please keep sending me owls at two in the morning, my dorm mates just love hearing me squeal like a baby kneazle while I read them. They also very much enjoy being lulled back to sleep by the dulcet tones of me wanking to your elegant prose. Forever your fleabag- Padfoot**

 

_ Piss off, Prongs. -Moony _

 

It is Friday, the seventh of January at three o’clock in the afternoon, and Madame Pince is glaring at Sirius and James as they pour over the sprawl of open books lying across their table in the back corner. Sirius admits that he is rarely in the library for any legitimate purpose, but the old bint is still irritating him with her judgmental glances, which Sirius is only too happy to return.

 

“Oi, Pads, why d’you look like such a moody git? You worried about tomorrow, meeting the folks and all that?”

 

Sirius scowls. “No, you prat. I’m just tired of that old vulture hovering over us like we’re up to no good. We’re bloody studying, aren’t we, being all quiet? Merlin’s pants, we’ve only cause that one explosion so far, and it was a very small one. Some bloody benefit of the doubt would be nice.”

 

James smirks. “Well, we are studying illegal things, Pads. Maybe she has a second sense for that sort of thing.”

 

“Well she can stuff it, it’s not her business. Interfering wench. Should hex one of the wheels off her stupid bloody swivel chair.”

 

James raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “That answers my question, then. You’re nervous, you bloody git.”

 

“I am not nervous. What’s there to be nervous about?” Sirius balls up a tiny piece of parchment and flicks it expertly up James’ left nostril, causing him to sputter and fall backwards.

 

James mutters an apology to Pince’s exaggerated shushing as he straightens his chair. “You fucking wanker. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, so stop bloody fretting. You can hex me later when we’re back in the dorm.”

 

Sirius grips his quill so tightly he nearly snaps it. “I’m not fretting, you bloody- there’s nothing to fret about, is there? They’re not going to like me. Parents never like me.”

 

“My parents loved you right away.”

 

“They loved  _ you _ right away too, though, so that’s not saying much for their good taste, now is it?”

 

“Piss off, Pads. You’re an adorable bloke with perfect pureblood manners. At the very worst they’ll be indifferent. Besides, we’ll be bringing them mum’s homemade mysore pak as a hostess gift. No one can resist that, not even my Tiger-Lily. She sent me a bloody thank-you note for the box we sent over hols, didn’t she?”

 

“If you keep fucking calling her that around me, I’m going to tell her that’s the name you call out while you’re wanking over that card every night.” Sirius raises his voice slightly towards the end of his sentence, causing James to flush.

 

“Fuck off, Padfoot! I don’t- sorry, Madame Pince, I’m sorry, we’ll be quiet.” James’ glower is making Sirius smirk cheerfully. Pince lets out an irritated sigh, stalking off to one of the back rooms in defeat.

 

“His folks are fine with him being queer, right? We don’t have to pretend you two are just good chums or something?”

 

“Well, they found out he was bent when he came home beat to bloody hell from that bloke, so … they have mixed feelings about it.” Sirius feels his stomach clench, as it does every time he thinks about Remus being harmed. “But they know we’re together, so you don’t have to worry about blurting out anything by accident like we both bloody know you’d do anyway.”

 

“Oi! I can keep a secret, you fucking prick. I worked bloody hard to get you two prats together, and now I am basking in the fruits of my labor, I’m not going to mess it up.” 

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. Over the past few weeks, James has been very considerate of the change in Marauder relationship dynamics. It is bloody annoying. Every time Sirius reaches for Remus’ hand, or nestles against Remus’ curls when his head is on Sirius’ shoulder, or says  _ bless you, tosser _ when Remus fucking sneezes, James grins happily like a niffler that’s gone mental.

 

A loud clearing of the throat makes them both jump in their seats. Evans is standing by their table, looking uncomfortable. James immediately straightens up, lying his hands flat on the table to keep them from flailing about, Sirius presumes, and smiles brightly.

 

“Good afternoon, Lily. Can we help you with something?”

 

Evans purses her lips, shifting her books awkwardly to her hip. She looks around, noting that the rest of the library is empty.

 

“I saw the mirror you got Remus for the holidays. It was … it was very thoughtful. And a clever bit of magic, as well.” She looks pained on both counts. 

 

Sirius smirks. The communication mirror was a brilliant idea that had taken James and him a month to perfect, and had caused Sirius to wear an eye patch for three days thanks to a bit of accidental spell reflecting. It was worth every bloody pirate joke to ensure that each Marauder now had his own mirror. Remus is worth it. Seeing Evans so flustered is definitely worth it.

 

“I always knew you thought we were brilliant, Evans. Nice of you to finally admit it.” Sirius winks cheekily. 

 

Evans smirks back at him. “I saw your other present as well, Black. Very touching.” Sirius is flushing scarlet as he evades eye contact with that nosey bint. He’s going to hex Remus for this.

 

“Wasn’t it a nice gift? Very classy, I thought, and of course it made Moony blush like mad, which made Padfoot blush even more, which was quite adorable.” James is smiling earnestly. Sirius is going to spell his fucking shoelaces together when it’s time for him to stand up.

 

Evans looks closely at James, as if she thinks he’s taking the piss. Sirius sighs irritably.

 

“Evans, did you need something? We’re actually quite busy here, so either spit it out or move along.” 

 

Evans glares at Sirius, looking around once more before dropping her books onto their table and sliding into a chair.

 

“I know what you two are doing. What you’re researching.” 

 

Her voice is emboldened with a confidence that makes Sirius’ stomach sink slightly. He narrows his eyes at her in what he hopes is a menacing expression. “Let me guess, you think we’re doing something terrible and illegal, and you’re trying to get us in trouble. Well, you can take your accusations, Evans, and shove them-”

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, Pads, stuff it! Don’t talk to people that way, you bloody git!” James is getting all huffy, much to the amusement of Evans.

 

“No need to defend my honor, Potter. Besides, I don’t think you’re doing something terrible and illegal. I think you’re doing something wonderful and illegal, and I want in.”

 

Sirius and James exchange a confused glance before James turns to Evans awkwardly.

 

“Er, Lily, I’m not sure what you think we’re doing, or how you figured it out, but-”

 

“Oh come off it, Potter. Advanced transfiguration texts? Articles on manipulating the mandrake leaf? Biographies on the five most famous animagi? The research on werewolf habits that I lent to you personally per Remus’ request? Let’s not waste time. I know. I want in. Remus is my friend, too, and I want to be there for him.”

 

James grimaces slightly. “Look, Lily, I understand where you’re coming from, but honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’ll take a lot of time and a lot of complex magic that will no doubt be stressful. I don’t want you to end up hexing my bollocks off permanently out of frustration.”

 

Evans’s eyes are wide with surprise. Sirius is a bit befuddled himself. A year ago James would have leapt at the chance to spend five bloody seconds with Evans, regardless of the cost.

 

Evans stands up, gathering her books together. “It won’t be a problem Potter. I can behave if you two can. I have my own notes and ideas. We’ll meet next week. Let me know where and when.” 

 

She turns sharply and walks briskly away. As soon as she’s left the room, James charms a pile of parchment to fold itself into birds and divebomb Sirius’ head.

 

“Whoo! Padfoot! Did you fucking hear that, you tosser? I’m going to snog the daylights out of Moony when I see him tomorrow, that bloody genius, I am making progress, this is fucking destiny at work, you mangy mutt, this is- ALRIGHT FINE, MADAME PINCE, SORRY, WE’RE LEAVING NOW, SO STOP SHOUTING PLEASE.” 

 

James stands up and gathers his things together, preparing to sweep dramatically out of the room. It would have been quite the statement, Sirius thinks, if only he didn’t trip over his own feet and fall into a magnificent sprawl across the floor.

 

“Shoelace spells, really Pads? Are we in fucking second year?  I’m going to hex your ears off, you bloody prat!”

 

Sirius is laughing like mad as he steps over James nimbly on his way out of the library.

 

James is still euphoric the next day as they prepare to floo from the Potters’ to Remus’ house. Sirius is not feeling as enthusiastic. His stomach is in knots as he anxiously runs his hands over the front of his muggle dress shirt trying to smooth out the wrinkles. His nerves are not calmed in the least when that bloody git James drags him through the floo without proper warning, causing him to trip as he enters the Lupin’s living room.

 

Remus is waiting for them, beaming excitedly. After James gives Remus a bear hug, he turns to face the wall, fussing with his clothes while humming quietly, pointedly ignoring the other two boys in the room.

 

Remus snakes his arms around Sirius’ waist, squeezing him gently and placing a light kiss on his collarbone. Sirius sighs as he returns the hug, nuzzling against those infuriating curls briefly and allowing himself to take a calming breath.

 

Remus leans back a bit so Sirius can bend down and rest their foreheads against each other. “I’m sure they’ll love you, Pads, but even if they don’t, it doesn’t matter.”

 

Sirius grins. “If they hate me, that’ll just make you want me all the more, Moony. No one can resist a bad boy.”

 

Remus smirks. “I’m the one who skulks around punk shows and goes feral once a month, Pads. You’re the jock from the posh school who gets good grades. Tell me again who the bad boy is here?” 

 

Sirius snorts. “Let’s tally up who owns the most cardigans, eh Moony? You bloody swot.”

 

Remus shoves Sirius away playfully. “Alright, enough of that. Prongs, come on, we’re ready. Mum’s in the kitchen waiting. Dad’s not home yet.” He grabs Sirius’ hand, lacing their fingers together, and leads them down the hall.

 

They find Mrs. Lupin chopping lettuce and vegetables for a salad. She puts her knife down and smiles brightly as she wipes her hands on a dishtowel and comes over to greet them. 

 

“Mum, this is James Potter, my best mate. And this is Sirius Black, my boyfriend.” Sirius feels Remus’ thumb rubbing gently against his hand and manages to smile politely.

 

James grins at Remus’ introduction and holds out the box of mysore pak. “Nice to meet you Mrs. Lupin, this is from the both of us. Homemade, of course. Well, mum and I make them, Siri just supervises, but that’s an important part of the process.” Sirius is going to abandon that fucking prat in the middle of muggle London this evening. The hopeless git will never be able to make it back on his own, Merlin willing.

 

Mrs. Lupin smiles and graciously accepts the box, ignoring James’ outstretched hand and pulling him in for a hug instead. She turns to Sirius, taking him in from head to toe before breaking into a brilliant smile that matches Remus’.

 

Their smiles are the only thing they have in common. Mrs. Lupin is short, coming up to Remus’ shoulder. She has straight, dark brown hair and blue eyes that exactly match the colors in her wrap dress.

 

Sirius automatically bows slightly and holds out his hand to her before he remembers that Mrs. Lupin is a nice muggle lady and not a bloody pureblood bint at a ball. He flushes straight through to his ears as Mrs. Lupin begins to laugh.

 

“My, my, what a gentleman you’ve found, Remus! And they say chivalry is dead.” She places her hand in Sirius’ and falls into an elaborate curtsy, and Sirius would apparate away to the fucking tundra if it weren’t for the twinkle in her eyes that assures him she’s just being playful. 

 

He smirks a bit as he plays along, kissing her hand chastely. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lupin. We appreciate your kind hospitality this evening, and do hope we will not be any imposition.”

 

“Fie, kind sir, how couldst thou be an imposition, when my beloved son, Sir Remus the Gallant, speaks so highly of thee-”

 

“Mum!” Remus looks mortified as Sirius, James and Mrs. Lupin all laugh heartily at him. Sirius can’t help it. It’s not his fault Remus looks so bloody adorable when he’s flustered.

 

“Alright, sweetie, calm down. It’s lovely to meet you, Sirius.” She pulls him into a quick hug before eyeing him up once more. “So, you’re dating my son, eh? You do know that my husband hunts dangerous creatures for a living?” Her eyes narrow slightly.

 

Sirius’ stomach begins to knot itself again. “Yes, ma’am, er, Remus has told us about his work.”

 

“Call me Hope, please, all of you. Except you, Remus, you can still call me mum. In any case, Sirius, Remus probably didn’t tell you that Lyall is a complete cream puff. I’m sure if it ever came down to it, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you in a duel. I, however, am fairly skilled at muggle brawling, and would not ever consider taking it easy on you. Bear that in mind, young man.”

 

Sirius isn’t sure whether he should be nervous or amused, so he stands there awkwardly like a bloody prat with his mouth hanging open.

 

“ _ Mum! _ Merlin’s sake- stop threatening my mates. And no brawling! Go down to the pub if you want to cause trouble.”

 

Mrs. Lupin- Hope, that is- laughs and rests a hand on Sirius arm. “I’m only teasing, love. I’ve heard wonderful things, and if that darling girl Lily will vouch for you, then I’m not one to disagree.”

 

James excitedly begins chatting with Hope about what a wonderful bird Evans is, and how she is the cleverest witch in their year, the fucking brown noser. Sirius is a bit taken aback. Evans said wonderful things? About him and James? Sirius groans a bit. This will only fuel that bloody git James’ lovestruck babbling.

 

Remus clears his throat. “Sirius, James, would you like to see the gardens? Mum’s created some really boss hybrids.”

 

“You two go on ahead, I’ll stay here with Hope.” James is smirking at the two of them, the tosser. “We need to finish preparing this salad, and I have to ask, Hope, is that a meek-row-wave? Would you mind terribly showing me how to use it? My mate Frank told me I just have to see what happens when you put a tomato in one. I promise I know an excellent cleansing spell.”

 

“Certainly, James, let me grab a tomato from a crisper. Oh, I have a bag of marshmallows, we can try one of those as well. Remus, dear, remember that your father blocked silencing spells from working in the garden, so no funny business.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes, though his cheeks are tinged with pink. “That’s not a real thing, mum, and don’t say things like that in front of company. Or ever.” 

 

Sirius likes strolling down the garden paths, hand in hand with Remus. He very much likes hearing Remus describe the particularly interesting plants in the garden. He especially likes Remus pulling him behind the garden shed and kissing him lightly on the lips. He most definitely likes Remus lacing both hands through his and looking up at him questioningly. He absolutely fucking loves what happens when he gives Remus a small nod, receiving a wicked smirk in return.

 

Remus is pushing him up against the wall of the shed, pinning his hands as he captures Sirius lips with his own, sucking on Sirius’ bottom lip until he moans quietly, allowing Remus full entrance to his mouth. As their kiss deepens, Remus frees his hands so that he can run them through Sirius’ hair, pulling him down, pressing his hips flush against Sirius. Sirius runs his hands slowly down Remus’ sides, drifting lower and lower until they’re circling his arse, gripping tightly as Remus returns to worrying that bottom lip the exact bloody way Sirius likes it, drawing Remus closer to him, even though there’s not a knut’s width of space between them as it is.

 

“Fuck, Moony.” Sirius is trying to stay quiet as Remus quickly undoes his shirt’s top three buttons, pushing one side lower so that he can mouth slow, gentle kisses from beneath Sirius’ ear down to his collarbone and then across to the top of his shoulder, then back up again. Sirius releases one hand from Remus’ arse to thread it through that obstinate lock of curls, holding them in place as they tangle in his fingers. 

 

They’ve gotten off together before, a few times in fact, but when Sirius is daydreaming in class, when he’s spacing out during James’ never bloody ending quidditch strategy meetings, when he’s wanking himself raw at night, this is what he thinks about, these soft curls against his fingers, these hot lips pressed to his neck.

 

Sirius growls in displeasure as Remus pulls away, buttoning Sirius’ shirt and fussing with his hair. “I hate the holidays, Moony. I get to see you every bloody day and it spoils me. I go back to Hogwarts and I’m a grouchy prat to everyone because I’m going through Moony withdrawals.”

 

Remus chuckles. “You’ve always been a grouchy prat, Pads. It’s part of your questionable charm.”

 

“Stuff it, Moony, before I hex you and you have to go to the show tonight with cat whiskers.”

 

Remus clutches at his chest. “Merlin’s pants, Pads, you really know how to cut a canine to the core.” He shoves Sirius off the path as they head back through the garden, and Sirius hurries to catch up so he can return the favor with a light elbow to the ribs.

 

Remus catches his elbow before it hits its mark, giving it a squeeze. “Come on, Pads, we’ve got to get back. Mum’s always after me to expand my eyeliner options when I go out, so there’s an above-zero chance we’ll find Prongs with sparkly blue eyelids and false lashes.”

 

**Moony- Sorry for hanging up so abruptly last night on the mirror. Prongs was trying to eavesdrop again. It’s like he’s actively trying to catch us in a mutual wank, the bloody perv. Although, that would not be nearly as embarrassing as having him catch us last night. Prongs bought the tickets for Saturday’s show at the Roxy. He says he’s looking forward to seeing a band that would call themselves Penetration. Let me know if you want me to lock him in the quidditch shed and come alone. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- You prat. I’m sure if Johnny Rotten had a communication mirror, he would press his nose to it so his boyfriend could kiss it. Only you would be less embarrassed to be caught wanking. It’s good that we got cut off though- we have a bit of a situation that Prongs can’t know about yet. This weekend is Lily’s birthday, and McGonagall’s allowing her to visit home. She begged me to take her to see Generation X on Saturday- she’s not a huge fan of their music, but she thinks Billy Idol is fit. I mentioned that I was already going with you blokes and … I have possibly convinced her to join us. I have also possibly suggested that we make a night of it and book cheap hotel rooms in the city. Call me this evening when you two are done practice, and we’ll break the news to Prongs gently so he doesn’t have an aneurism. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’ll be ready to hex him at the first sign of mental distress. Possibly I’ll hex him earlier than that, just to be on the safe side. If you keep performing miracles such as these, Prongs is going to fall for you instead of Evans, and then what will I do? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- If Prongs manages to sweep me off my feet and we live happily ever after, there will always be a spot for you at the foot of our bed. Talk to you tonight, you git. -Moony _

 

It is Saturday, the twenty ninth of January at seven o’clock in the evening, and Sirius is going to hex Remus, who is currently sporting a  _ lip piercing _ for the concert, the prat. How is Sirius supposed to keep from snogging his bloody brains out all evening when he’s got a lip ring?

 

He and James have just arrived at the Lupins’ house, where Evans and Remus are waiting for them in the living room. Sirius barely registers Evans’ presence as Remus comes towards him for a hug. Sirius knows he must be gawking like a git, because Remus is smirking as he greets Sirius with a light kiss, the devious bastard.

 

“Lily! It’s lovely to see you outside of school. You’re looking well. Is that- did you pierce your eyebrow? Merlin’s pants, that looks ace!” James is grinning widely at Evans, ruffling his hair nervously. Sirius can tell that he’s trying very hard to control his enthusiasm and not be an overbearing git, impossible task though it may be.

 

Evans smiles back at him a bit warily. “Er, it’s just a charm that I was playing around with, it’s not permanent. You two look … nice, as well.”

 

James is beaming as if he’s just received a compliment from the bloody Minister of Magic. “Thank you, Lily. Wait until you see us after our makeovers!” 

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Prongs, how’ve you not managed to get the snot beat out of you at one of these shows yet?”

 

Before James can retort, Remus interrupts. “Alright, I have the eyeliner here, who wants to go first? Prongs, get over here. Actually, Lily, could you do Sirius? That way we’ll be done faster.

 

Sirius scowls. He does not want Evans to do his eyeliner. She’ll do a shite job. She won’t know how to accent the natural tilt of his eyes the way Remus does. He notices that Evans looks no more excited than he does, but they both capitulate when Remus gives them stern looks.

 

When she’s done, Sirius checks his reflection critically. He sighs in defeat. “Alright, Evans, you’ve done an alright job. Not as good as Moony, but I suppose Prongs needs the most help out of all of us, so he should get the expert.”

 

Evans smirks. “I’ll agree with you there, Black, but then who wouldn’t?”

 

“Poke fun at me all you want, you tossers, I’m the one enjoying Moony’s ace skills, so I don’t bloody care.” Prongs is smirking as Remus finishes up, carefully replacing the pencil lid and vanishing it back upstairs.

 

“Alright then, let’s head out. We’ll floo over to the Leaky Cauldron and then take muggle transport the rest of the way.”

 

James hurries over to the fireplace. “Here you are, Lily, I’ll toss your floo powder for you so you don’t get any on your outfit.” He’s grinning nervously as he stands stiffly by the fireplace with a daft, hopeful expression on his face. 

 

Evans sighs. “Go on then, Potter, that’s actually very thoughtful of you.” James quickly tosses the powder and allows Evans to step through. Before he goes through himself, he turns to Remus and Sirius, pumping a fist in the air. “Destiny, you wankers. Fucking destiny!” 

 

Remus rolls his eyes and grabs Sirius’ hand. “Come on, let’s get through before Prongs inevitably does something daft and ruins the evening before it starts.” 

 

Sirius looks down at Remus’ wrist and smiles as his cheeks flush a bit. “You’re wearing your holiday gift?”

 

Remus is grinning. “I wear it every day, you git. It’s very punk.” Sirius grins back as he looks down at the thick pewter chain adorning Remus’ wrist. Sirius pulls out his wand and turns Remus’ hand over to see the clasp, which is engraved with a wolf and a dog sitting next to each other. When Sirius taps his wand to the clasp, the two animals nip and play with each other for a few seconds, tails wagging happily.

 

Sirius raises Remus’ wrist to his lips for a brief moment before he stumbles through the floo grinning like a bloody prat.

 

Generation X and Penetration put on a pretty boss show. Sirius doesn’t agree with Evans that Billy Idol is all that fit, until the bloke starts in on his first song, sneering at the crowd in a way that Sirius can certainly appreciate. The Roxy itself is a filthy mess, with dark corners, graffitied walls, and rude patrons. Sirius fucking loves it. 

 

He loves watching Remus as he pushes his way through the throng of fishnet and leather clad punks, cheering and screaming, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Remus and Evans stick close together, holding hands so they don’t get separated in the crowd. Occasionally Remus throws his arm around Evans protectively when some bloke gets too close for comfort. 

 

Sirius and James stand behind them. James has been careful to keep a reasonable distance between himself and Evans all evening, but he gapes at her like a lovesick prat- which he is- when she isn’t looking. Sirius would take the piss, but he remembers James’ comments about Moony-peeping, so he keeps his bloody trap shut, biting back a grin at the thought of Remus giving him the same sort of secret glances.

 

Evans pulls Remus down to whisper something into his ear, causing him to snicker. Sirius feels his stomach tighten a bit in envy. He wants to be able to hold Remus’ hand, make Remus laugh, throw his arm around Remus’ shoulders, not just when they are alone, but all the time, no matter who’s watching.

 

James notices, Sirius assumes, because when they go to sit down in between sets at a row of stools against the wall, he makes sure he’s sitting in between Remus and Sirius, stretching out a bit between them. Evans looks a bit irritated at him as she sits down next to Remus, until she notices that Sirius and Remus are holding hands behind James’ back, where no one can see. She catches Sirius’ eye and gives him a small grin, making Sirius flush a bit.

 

After the show, they hit up a few pubs. Evans thanks James politely for making her a muggle ID, and the bloody git nearly swoons. Eventually they find themselves in a pub on Old Compton that’s absolutely packed. Sirius is able to snag them a booth, glaring at some swotty looking blokes until they scarper off. Evans chides him a bit, but Remus and James both snicker approvingly. 

 

“Alright, I’ll grab the next round. I’m going to have the bartender make us some sort of boss muggle shot concoction.” James is rummaging through his wallet, pulling out muggle notes and peering at them suspiciously.

 

Remus is clearly a bit tipsy, flushed and smiling, sneaking little squeezes of Sirius’ hand under the table. “I’ll go with you, Prongs. I’m not letting you get cheap tequila again.”

 

James rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t get it again, Moony, you know it’s my goal to sample every muggle liquor ever made.”

 

“Not in one night, you git!” Remus is laughing as he drags James to the bar, leaving Sirius and Evans alone at the booth. Sirius watches as Remus leans against the bar waiting for their drinks, running his long fingers through his hair.

 

“You make him happy.”

 

Sirius turns to glare at Evans. “I should bloody hope so.”

 

Evans is smirking, the bint. “You’re not as unbearable as you used to be, Black. Especially when you’re around him. You get all-”

 

“Stuff it, Evans.” Sirius is scowling. “It’s fine that you’ve finally realized how brilliant I am, but I don’t need to hear any further commentary.”

 

Evans is laughing at him. “Calm down, Black. I’ll let it go. It’s just nice to see that you and Potter aren’t the prats I thought you were.”

 

Sirius smirks at this. “Oh, we’re still prats, Evans, just not the type you thought we were. Speaking of prats, where the bloody hell are those other two?”

 

“I saw Potter head to the loo. Remus is still up there.” Evans nods in the direction of the bar.

 

Sirius turns to see Remus at the bar, the four shots sitting in front of him. He’s chatting with the bloke standing next to him. Remus is smiling politely and nodding, but the fucking prick he’s talking to is leering a bit, leaning in towards Remus. Sirius feels his insides twist. How is it that Remus won’t hold Sirius’ hand in public, but he’ll let some bloody stranger eye-fuck him in the middle of a pub?

 

Sirius gets up quickly and heads over to the bar in time to see that creepy fucking bloke sliding his hand across the bar so that it brushes up against Remus’ pinky. Remus quickly moves his hand away, just as Sirius arrives, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Moony, you need help carrying those shots back to the booth?” Sirius’ question is directed towards Remus, but he keeps his narrowed eyes trained on the other bloke. “Excuse me, mate, d’you mind shoving off? I’ve got to get in and grab these.” He makes sure to stand up straight and tall, leaning a bit towards the bloke menacingly.

 

“Sure thing, mate, no worries.” The creepy fucking prick backs away from Sirius quickly, pissing off to go and bother someone else, no doubt. 

 

“Thanks, Pads.” Remus is smiling, biting at that lip ring in a way that’s driving Sirius to distraction. “That bloke was a bloody git. Wouldn’t leave me alone, and Prongs is taking forever to come back from the loo. Good thing you were looking out for me.” He winks, sidling over to Sirius and resting his head gently on his shoulder for a brief moment. Sirius quickly presses his cheek to Remus’ curls before they pull apart, feeling giddy from the combination of Remus and tequila.

 

“Ugh. Get out of the way, you bloody poofs. This is why I hate coming to Soho, fucking shirt-lifters jamming up the place.” A posh looking git is standing behind them, tapping his foot impatiently as his two arsehole mates snicker beside him. 

 

Sirius clenches his fists. He is fucking tired of dealing with shite blokes this evening, and is ready to pummel this prat if dares to say one more bloody word. He takes a step forward, glad that he’s got a good four inches on this fucking git. “Say that again, mate, now that you’ve got my attention.”

 

The posh git looks a bit taken aback, but doesn’t back down as he and his friends move a bit closer.

 

“I said, I hate coming to Soho and having to deal with disgusting shirt-lifters defiling every decent pub.” The posh git reaches up and pushes Sirius in the chest. Sirius is seeing red, ready to clock this fucking prick right in his oversized nose, not bloody caring that it’ll be three against one. He’s about to start swinging when he feels Remus’ fingers gripping his wrists, holding back his fists gently, but firmly. 

 

“That’s not what you said in the loo while you were groping my arse.”

 

Everyone turns in surprise to see James walk over and stand between Sirius and the posh git, who’s sputtering like an angry kneazle as his friends look at each other uncertainly.

 

“You fucking- who the fuck are you? I wasn’t groping anyone’s arse, you bloody-”

 

“It’s alright, mate, I know it’s hard for you to admit your feelings, but I’ll always remember tonight, and that magical fifteen minutes we spent together in the corner stall. Don’t ever forget me, my pet.” Before the posh git can say another word, James swoops in to grab him by the cheeks and pull him into a wet, messy snog.

 

“AUGHH!” The posh git pushes James off, stumbling backwards as his friends stand there with their mouths hanging open. Sirius is trying to figure out what the fuck just happened when he feels Remus and James grabbing him by his arms and pulling him quickly out of the pub and down the street, with Evans trailing behind them. 

 

They turn down an alley. James leans against the brick wall and attempts to laugh himself to bloody death. Evans looks quite amused as well. 

 

“Nice work in there, Potter, although I’d say you need to work on your snogging skills.”

 

“Well I would have gotten more practice in, if the bloke had been game.” James winks at Evans, causing her laugh, which startles all four of them.

 

Sirius is breathing heavily, his heart still pounding. If that fucking git had come any closer to Remus, he’d have broken every bloody bone in his body, one by one. He grabs Remus and pulls him into a tight embrace, burying his head in the crook of Remus’ neck as Remus runs his hands up and down Sirius’ back slowly, not stopping until Sirius’ breathing is slow and even once more.

 

Evans clears her throat. “Er, it’s nearly two, and I’m a bit beat. Shall we head back to the hotel?”

 

Remus gives Sirius a quick kiss on his collarbone before they head out of the alley and back to the hotel. They make their way up the stairs to the two rooms they’ve reserved.

 

“Alright, Prongs and Pads, here’s your key, room twenty three, and Lily and I are in twenty five.” Remus hands James one of the keys, but before they can say their goodbyes, Evans sighs deeply.

 

“Look, Remus, how about you and Black take that room, and … I’ll share with Potter.”

 

James looks ready to have that aneurysm he’s been on the cusp of for the past week. “Er- Lily, that’s- there’s no need- I can kip in the hallway-”

 

Evans is rolling her eyes. “Just go in the room, transfigure the bed into two, and conjure up a dividing curtain. I’m not going to insult you by telling you not to try anything, but  _ do not assume _ that this gesture is anything more than us letting our mates cuddle in peace after a long night.”

 

Sirius could kiss Evans, not that he would. He’s been loathe to part from Remus, and has been dreading spending the whole long, frustrating night separated from him by a thin wall. Before Evans can come to her senses, Sirius is dragging Remus into the room and locking the door.

 

Remus is laughing as Sirius pulls him into another hug. “Easy, Pads, we’ve got all night.”

 

“All night’s not long enough, Moony. That bloody lip ring is going to drive me mad, and you know it, you sly bastard.”

 

“You’re already mad, you git.” Remus kisses Sirius lightly on the nose. Sirius grins, reaching down to capture Remus’ mouth with his own. As their snogging becomes more intense, Sirius realizes they’ve walked towards the edge of the bed. 

 

Suddenly it hits Sirius that he is alone, with Remus, in a room with a bed, for the next eight hours or so, with no interruptions. He starts to panic a bit. Every time they’ve gotten off together so far, it’s been a hurried, mostly-clothed affair in the back room of the shop. This is going to be different, or at least, there is the expectation that this will be different. He stops kissing Remus and gnaws on his bottom lip nervously.

 

Remus tilts his head, looking up at him. “Pads, are you okay? Do you want to lie down, and I’ll run my fingers through your hair the way you like? Or we can just go to sleep? What are you comfortable with?”

 

Sirius kisses Remus on the cheek. Of course Remus understands. Of course he won’t pressure Sirius to go further than he’d be comfortable with. 

 

“I … I don’t want to sleep yet, Moony.” Sirius rests their foreheads together for a moment, gazing into Remus’ warm amber eyes.

 

The snogging resumes shortly after. Shirts are unbuttoned, trousers are discarded, underpants are flung onto lamps, socks are balled up and thrown in faces. Eventually they are laying on the bed, facing each other, with nothing to separate them. Sirius thinks Remus looks beautiful, pale and angelic against the white sheets. He runs his fingers over the map of scars on Remus’ left side, loving how they feel beneath his fingertips, loving the juxtaposition of rough scar tissue next to silky smooth skin.

 

“What do you want to do, Pads?” Remus is looking at him with wide eyes, brushing his long fingers along the curve of Sirius’ neck.

 

“I- I want to do more, but … I’m not sure what to do.” Sirius blushes, feeling like a virginal prat. He’s never been interested in listening to the sexual escapades described in great detail by the blokes in the locker room after quidditch practice, but now he wishes that he’d paid more attention so he’d have some sort of reference for what should come next. Not that he’ll be unhooking Remus’ fucking bra or whatever other things blokes usually do with birds. 

 

Remus is smiling at him. “How about you lie back and let me try something. If I bollocks it up, just tell me to stop.” Sirius silently rolls over to his back, allowing Remus to take charge of the situation, allowing him to trace patterns of kisses across his chest, down the contours of his stomach, then lower still. When Sirius feels that first hot, wet breath of Remus taking him into his mouth, he nearly bites his bloody tongue off trying to strangle down the moans that try to escape from his throat.

 

“Fuck, Moony, you are too bloody good at this.” Sirius is gripping the sheets tightly, not sure if he wants this moment to go on forever or end right now before he fucking dies.

 

“I’m aware of that.” Remus’ reply is playful, but Sirius feels a small knot in his stomach as he mulls over those words.

 

“Oh, I … you’ve done this before, then?” Sirius is trying not to think about the other blokes whom Remus might have done this with, that fucking green eyed creeper who might have made Remus do this when he didn’t really want to.

 

Remus pauses, then pushes himself up and moves so that he’s looming over Sirius, straddling his hips. “I haven’t done this before, no. This is all new to me as well. We’re figuring things out together.” He’s smiling as he gazes down at Sirius, nuzzling their noses together.

 

Sirius huffs. “Well, how’d you become such a bloody expert, then?”

 

Remus smirks, leaning down to kiss Sirius’ collarbone. “Books.”

 

“Books? You’re a swot in the bedroom as well, then?” Sirius is grinning now, feeling much more relaxed as Remus continues to kiss his shoulder in that way that makes him shiver.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with doing your research, Pads. Besides, I’m a quick study, especially when a topic is particularly interesting. And the topic of things that make Padfoot go all wobbly will always be bloody fascinating to me.”

 

This time, as Remus makes his way back down Sirius’ body, Sirius allows himself to thread his fingers through Remus’ curls and let out a quiet moan or two, savoring the intimacy that comes with every touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't tell me that a woman who had a boggart cake topper wasn't a hoot.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Next chapter should be up on Wednesday.


	7. April 1977

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fist fights and fiendfyre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobic violence and slurs, as well as a crapload of self loathing.

**Moony- Attached please find a little something I spotted in Hogsmeade yesterday. I saw it and thought of you immediately. Wish you could have stopped by to see us, but I understand that you needed time to prepare for tonight’s camping trip. Hopefully you’ll be rested and recovered by Friday when Prongs and I are home for spring hols. I’ve been looking forward to buying the Clash’s debut record for weeks, and Prongs is not nearly punk enough to accompany me on such a sacred quest. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I don’t know what I find more confunding; the fact that Bertie Botts sells bags of just the booger flavored beans, the fact that they reminded you of me, or the fact that I’ve already eaten half the bag in one sitting. I’ll be ready to greet you prats at the station on Friday.  You’ll notice that I’ve attached the latest issue of the Sniffin’ Glue zine for you to read. You might want to check out this boss article on page 3.5, “Fucking Off vs. Fucking Shite Up: Anarchism vs. Revolution in Punk Political Discourse”. The author’s name is S. Black. Sounds like a real tosser, though I can tell from reading the article that he’s probably got a pretty nice arse. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’m a fucking author. An author published in an underground punk zine, which is the only kind of author to be, naturally. I’ve autographed the article for you and attached it with this note, so that in thirty years you can auction it off for a fortune. Do you think Sid Vicious will read it? If he reads it and decides to leave that mental American bint he’s dating to come after me, I solemnly swear that I’ll insist he sets you up with Joe Strummer as your rebound fling. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I wouldn’t need a rebound if you left me for Sid. I’d just become your side piece. Though if Joe did want to give it a go whilst you were otherwise occupied, I suppose I’d be keen. Pity he likes birds. I forgot to ask you last night, do you know anything about this transfiguration project Lily and Prongs are working on together? Prongs said it was an advanced tutoring group or something, but the books he had me owl over from the shop seem fairly complex for students to be tackling. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Who knows what those swots are up to. I never ask Prongs about anything having to do with his tutoring, or having to do with Evans, for that matter, because I have no wish to be bored to death. It doesn’t matter if Joe likes birds, by the way. No bloke’s so straight that he wouldn’t be tempted by my Moony. See you on Friday, tosser. -Pads**

 

It is Tuesday, the twelfth of April, at two in the afternoon, and Sirius cannot believe that his prat boyfriend Remus has never taken him to the muggle thrift store in Cokeworth before today.

 

“Bloody hell, Moony, how have we not been in here before? Look at all of these ace tshirts I found! And the jeans here are already junked up. Think of how much more boss I could have looked at all the shows we’ve been to if I’d had access to this stuff earlier! You’ve deprived the entirety of London from seeing me at my most stylish.”

 

Remus does not turn away from the mirrored wall where he and Evans are trying on muggle lady church hats. “You’re stylish enough already, you vain tosser. Besides, if you get any more good looking, we’ll never be able to let you out in public. Hordes of birds will be attacking you in the streets.”

 

Sirius flushes as he grins happily, ignoring Evans’ snickering. He will never get tired of hearing Remus compliment him. He never used to like being complimented when it came from the daft, giggling birds at school who would fawn over him in that bloody irritating manner. Remus, however, is different. Remus knows Sirius, the real Sirius, all the different parts of Sirius, the brilliant parts and the shite parts. Remus knows all of Sirius, and chooses to be with him regardless. Sirius supposes that the same can be said for James, but James is his brother, and brothers have to stick with each other even when they are being complete tossers. Well, brothers in the Potter family have to, at least. Sirius reckons there’s no greater compliment than Remus’ company.

 

“Oi, look at this, mates! I can get this jumper with the penguin on it, this rubber ducky, this porcelain platypus figurine, and this screwing driver, all for five quid! This store is brilliant!” James is grinning brightly as he brandishes his findings. 

 

“That’s quite a deal, Potter. I don’t see how you’ve survived in life thus far without those things. They’re basic necessities.” Evans is smirking as James rolls his eyes at her.

 

“How do you know I don’t already have a penguin jumper or two at home, Lily? I’m a complex bloke. Just for that comment, you will not be allowed to borrow my screwing driver when you have something that you need to drive. Or something that you need to screw. Whichever way it works.” James has his nose in the air in mock consternation, but he’s grinning.

 

Sirius is still somewhat surprised to see James and Evans exchanging friendly banter with each other. Three months of tutoring and animagi work have made James legitimately comfortable around Evans, rather than merely pretending to be comfortable whilst trying to hide the fact that he’s a bloody overexcitable prat. Evans seems to be warming up to both James and Sirius as well. She does not hang out with them at school outside of their working sessions, but she does say hello to them in the common room. She also cheers for them at quidditch games, and is generally more pleasant to be around, Sirius thinks. Possibly because of Remus’ influence, possibly because James has stopped falling out of his bloody chair every time she walks into the room, possibly because she is unaware that it was the Marauders who put time-lapsed disillusionment charms on the sixth year Slytherin boys’ laundry last Wednesday.

 

As Sirius makes his way to the dressing rooms to try on the twelve tshirts he’s picked out, he spots something that makes him stop dead in his tracks, letting out a low whistle as he drops the armful of shirts he’s been holding. Stepping over the now abandoned pile, he grabs the item that’s captured his heart, pulling it on and walking back to the group. He catches Remus’ gaze in the mirror, causing the shorter boy to gasp as his eyes widen to take in Sirius’ reflection. Sirius grins wickedly at Remus’s reaction. 

 

Sirius is wearing a leather jacket. It is black, a bit worn in just the right places to give it a rugged look, adorned with zippers and buckles. It fits him perfectly, not too snug across his broad shoulders, not too long on the sleeves. With his torn jeans, messy hair, eyeliner, and black fingernail polish, this jacket pushes him over the edge from fit punk to fucking sex god. The hungry gleam in Remus’ eyes confirms this fact, and makes Sirius’ chest swell with heat.

 

“Pads. You’re getting that jacket. I don’t care if it costs five hundred quid. I’ll rob the next five posh people we run into to get enough money.” Remus is walking over to stand in front of him now, running his hands over Sirius’ shoulders and down his arms to his wrists. Sirius looks around, noticing that there’s no one else in sight, and that Evans and James have pointedly turned their backs to look through a random clothing rack.

 

“Will you check the price tag for me?” Sirius is grinning at Remus, stepping closer until their bodies are nearly touching. Remus runs his hands around Sirius’ neck, letting his long fingers trace their way across his skin, making Sirius shiver. He grabs the tag, leaning in closer to read it so his curls are brushing against Sirius’ cheek.

 

“It’s fifteen quid. A bargain.” Remus’ voice is low as his breath whispers against Sirius’ neck. Sirius has to bite back a groan as Remus drops a light kiss on his collarbone before backing away. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand before he can get too far, bringing it up to his lips quickly so he can sneak a little kiss onto the tip of his pinky.

 

They exit the shop shortly after, with Sirius in his new jacket and James in his new penguin jumper. James looks up at the sunny sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Let’s grab some ice cream. It’s such a nice day out, we can get some cones and eat in the park.”

 

Lily wrinkles her nose. “I’m not in the mood for something sweet. Could go for some chips, though. I’ll head down to the chippy and meet you lot at the ice cream store.”

 

“I’ll go with you, Evans. Moony and Prongs both need to take their time tasting each and every flavor until they eventually decide to order the same bloody flavors they always get. Moony, just grab me a fudge ripple, will you?” 

 

Sirius and Evans head over to the chippy together, chatting about whether Evans should return to the thrift store and purchase that horrible purple church hat with the peacock feathers to wear at her bint sister’s birthday party. Suddenly, Evans comes to a screeching halt in the middle of the road. Sirius looks up and sees Severus fucking Snape standing in front of them, staring in surprised disgust as if he’s caught a pair of hippogriffs mid-shag.

 

“Snivellus? What are you doing here?” Sirius doesn’t mean to let the nickname slip out in front of Evans, but Evans doesn’t seem to care as she narrows her eyes at Snape, pressing her lips together tightly. Snape looks simply furious, turning a shade of purple that Sirius is happy to note makes him look like an overgrown bubotuber.

 

“What are  _ you _ doing here, Black? Lily, why are you with- with  _ him _ ?” Snape spits out his words angrily. Sirius thinks that if the git had any bloody common sense, he’d walk away right now, because Evans looks like she’s ready to get shirty with him, and a pissed off Evans is something one ought to run the fuck away from.

 

Sirius looks back and forth at Evans and Snape a bit bemusedly, wondering which one will snap first. In the end, Evans simply links her arm through Sirius’ and drags him away, pushing past Snape as though he doesn’t exist at all.

 

Neither of them mention it while waiting in line at the chippy, nor do they mention it to Prongs and Remus when they meet up and head to the park. Sirius makes a mental note to bring it up later in the evening when the Marauders are alone, smirking as he thinks about all the colorful ways he can describe how bloody ridiculous Snape looked.

 

When they arrive in the park clearing, James conjures up a blanket for them to sit on. Evans pulls out a muggle magazine, Cosmopolitan, and begins to quiz James on which bathing suit style will best suit his personality this summer. Sirius sits next to Remus, noticing that the shorter boy is shivering slightly as he eats his ice cream.

 

“You chilly, Moony? I told you to bring a thicker cardigan. You’re always cold when you wear this one.” 

 

Remus shrugs. “I’ll be okay, Pads. It’s not that cold out, it’s just because I’m eating ice cream.”

 

Sirius ignores Remus and pulls off his new jacket. He drapes it around Remus’ shoulders, making sure it’s tucked around him securely. “There you are, Moony, that ought to warm you up. Especially since I’ve already gotten it all toasty for you.” He grins as Remus blushes, ducking his head a bit.

 

Sirius likes the way Remus looks in his jacket. It’s slightly too large for his frame, hanging off of his shoulders just enough to be completely fucking adorable. Once Remus has finished his cone, he wraps the jacket around himself a bit tighter, giving the collar one of his little wolfy sniffs to catch Sirius’ scent, turning pink when he catches Sirius watching him. Part of Sirius wishes Remus would not get so flustered when Sirius spots him doing wolfy things, but another part of him loves seeing Remus flush so attractively.

 

Remus stretches out his legs and gives his right thigh a pat. Eagerly, Sirius scrambles over to lay his head on Remus’ lap. Closing his eyes and sighing contently, he relishes the feeling of Remus’ fingers as they comb gently through his hair in that way that makes him go boneless. He feels protected here in their clearing, as if he can let his guard down, as if he can fully relax, safe and secure in Remus’ arms.

 

It is Monday, the eighteenth of April, at ten in the morning, and Sirius is surprised to find himself being dragged into a broom closet on the way to potions.

 

“What the fuck- Snivellus? Merlin’s bollocks, if you’re going to try and snog me-”

 

“Shut up, Black.” Snape has his wand pressed to Sirius’ throat, a menacing look on his greasy face. “What were you doing with Lily? Are you- are you trying to- if you’ve so much as touched one hair on her head- you disgusting-”

 

Sirius is laughing now, watching that fucking bulbous nose quiver with rage. “What are you trying to ask me, Snivellus? Merlin’s bollocks- do you think I’m snogging Evans? Is that your issue? Feeling a bit jealous that she was able to evade your charms, you brainless, greasy, snakey, fucking ugly-”

 

Sirius’ taunt is cut short as Snape shoots a hex at him, causing a gash on his face that starts to bleed at an alarmingly rapid rate.

 

“Shut your trap, Black, or else we’ll see how dirty your cowardly, traitor blood really is when I spill every drop of it on this ugly brown carpet. Lily has been nicer to you and Potter this year, spending time in the library with you- what are you doing to her? Why were you in Cokeworth? If you’re playing with her- I know you can’t keep it in your trousers, everyone’s always talking about what a slag you are-”

 

Sirius lets out a derisive snort. These brainless fucking people at this brainless fucking school, always judging him for what they think he does, who they think he is, even though they don’t know the first bloody thing about him, not that they deserve to fucking know anything about him.

 

It’s too easy to knee Snape in the groin and snatch his wand, knocking the fucking git to the floor. He lets himself punch Snape once, right in that horrid nose, before pinning both of his hands to the scratchy carpet.

 

“You fucking daft arsehole. I’m not with Evans, I’m with Remus. That’s why I was in Cokeworth, you completely worthless piece of shite.”

 

Snape’s stupid fucking eyes widen in shock. “You- you’re a poof? You and Lupin- is he the Moony you two are always babbling on about? He’s been doing this, he’s been poisoning Lily ever since- it’s all his fault-”

 

Sirius chuckles without mirth. “Yes, I’m a poof. A shirt-lifter. Fucking bent. Same as Remus. It must kill you that Evans chooses to spend her time with a couple of queers rather than with you.” He stands up, kicking Snape in the ribs, grinning gleefully at the greasy git’s moans of pain.

 

“Sorry if you were hoping for a shag when you dragged me in here, but unfortunately for you, I’m only into human blokes, not dirty fucking snakes. Come at me again, you absolute sack of garbage, and I’ll fucking end you.” 

 

He tosses Snape’s wand deep into the back of the closet, leaving the fucking arsehole writhing on the dirty floor. His stomach is in knots as he makes his way to the infirmary, grateful that Madame Pomfrey won’t ask too many questions when he strolls in with a bloody fucking face. His insides churn a bit as he considers what James and Moony will say when he tells them what happened. He won’t tell them, he decides. It’s nothing to stress about. Snape is just some dirty snake who holds no power over Sirius.

 

_ Pads, Prongs- I know you’re at school, but some creepy bloke just came to the shop and asked a bunch of funny questions that got me a bit on edge. I’ve got to be here late tonight for a customer pick-up at eight in the evening, and I know I’m probably being a nervous prat, but if one of you could swing by tonight to keep me company, I’d really appreciate it. -Moony _

 

**Moony- we’ll be there after classes. You’re not being a nervous prat. You’re being smart by asking for backup. The Marauders are on the case. -Pads and Prongs**

 

It is Thursday, the twenty first of April at six in the evening, when James and Sirius apparate from Hogsmeade to Cokeworth. As they appear behind the shop, Sirius starts choking on the thick clouds of smoke that envelope him. James is pulling him out of the alley as he coughs up a fucking lung, not that he gives a shite.

 

“Prongs- what the fuck- MOONY! REMUS WHERE ARE YOU- LET GO OF ME JAMES, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHITE, I NEED MY MOONY RIGHT NOW, I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO INTO THAT BURNING BUILDING RIGHT FUCKING NOW-”

 

James has his arms wrapped around Sirius’ chest, holding him back as he howls and blubbers like a fucking child, attempting to throw himself into the building that’s lit up with what Sirius can tell is fucking fiendfyre. James is sobbing as well, but he doesn’t let go of Sirius, doesn’t let him charge through the front door, which has  _ FAGGOT _ painted across it in red, matching the slurs scrawled across the windows and walls.

 

“Sit boy!” James’ shouts the words into Sirius’ ear, but Sirius doesn’t care, doesn’t fucking care as he sees the roof of the building cave in. He’s hysterical, begging Merlin to let him burn rather than Remus, let him pay for telling Snape about Remus, let him fucking suffer the way he’s deserved to for his entire fucking life, the way everyone except Remus and the Potters have always known that he deserves.

 

“SIT BOY! MOONY IS SAFE. SIT BOY, SIT BOY!” James is screaming in his ear, but Sirius is not registering his words.

 

“Sirius? James?” Lyall Lupin, looking completely drained and pale as the Bloody Baron, is standing in front of them. “Remus is fine. He’s being tended to by the healers. He made it out in time, just a bit of smoke inhalation to deal with.” Sirius cringes as he looks into Lyall’s face, so similar to his son’s that it’s like getting a glimpse of future Remus, a future Remus that almost didn’t exist thanks to him.

 

Sirius doesn’t understand why Lyall is being so calm, why he isn’t breaking Sirius’ fucking nose, why he isn’t screaming at Sirius about what a worthless piece of shite he is. James is talking to Lyall, tears still clinging to his cheeks as he gestures to the building, saying words that Sirius can’t fucking comprehend for the life of him. He feels his head swimming as his stomach twists itself into tight knots.

 

Without thinking, Sirius apparates away to the clearing in the park. He’s managed to understand that Remus is safe. He need not know anything else. Remus is safe, no thanks to him. Remus would have been safe this whole fucking time, if it wasn’t for him. He drops to his hands and knees, vomiting violently at the foot of a tree. His stomach feels as though it’s eating itself from the inside out. He stays there, unmoving for what feels like hours, hunched over the pile of his own sick, willing himself to dissolve away completely and spare everyone from having to deal with his worthless fucking existence.

 

Sirius hears the pop of apparition behind him, but he doesn’t turn around. He hears someone choking out a relieved sigh. Remus. Remus is here. Remus should not be here. Sirius does not fucking deserve to have Remus here.

 

He hears the swoosh of Remus’ patronus forming. “Tell Prongs he’s where I thought he’d be. No immediate danger.” 

 

Remus is walking over to Sirius, kneeling beside him and placing a hand gently on his back. He vanishes the mess at the foot of the tree. “Padfoot. Look at me. Why did you run? Merlin, Pads, there was a bloody attack tonight, and then you just disappeared, and we had no idea- we didn’t know if you were- bloody hell, Padfoot, Prongs and I have been driven to distraction looking for you.”

 

Sirius looks up to meet Remus’ eyes and is shocked to see them filled with tears. Remus looks terrified. Sirius has not thought he could feel any lower, but seeing Remus looking so upset because of him makes him feel a thousand fucking times worse. Remus nearly died tonight, because of  _ him _ , and yet his primary concerns are still about Sirius’ bloody safety and comfort, just as they always are, even though Sirius has never fucking deserved any of it, not ever, and certainly not tonight.

 

“Moony … this is all my fault … fuck-” Sirius gets sick again, coughing and gagging and clutching at his middle. Remus says nothing. He spells away the mess once again and grabs Sirius’ chin with his hand, pulling his face up so he can cast a quick cleansing charm at Sirius’ mouth. He pushes Sirius back into a seated position, setting himself on his knees so they are facing each other.

 

“Padfoot, tell me. Whatever it is, you’ll feel better if you just tell me.” Remus has his fingers laced through Sirius’ in a tight grip, keeping Sirius from clenching his fists.

 

“Snape. He confronted me, thought I was getting off with Evans or something. Gave me a bit of a nasty gash across the face, and I just- I snapped. Told him you and I were together and roughed him up a bit. Fucking- I should have known that greasy git would do something like this, something so … fuck, Moony, that was fiendfyre, you could have fucking  _ died _ , and it would have been my fault. And fuck, he couldn’t have done this alone, fiendfyre is serious stuff, so that means other people know, people who shouldn’t know, people who will keep trying to hurt you and it’s my fault, all of this is my fucking fault-”

 

“Padfoot.” Remus’ voice is firm, and Sirius falls silent immediately, bowing his head contritely. He hopes Remus will be gentle with him when he tells Sirius to stay the fuck away from him from now on, not that Sirius deserves anything but the harshest treatment.

 

“You should not have goaded Snape, you should not have kept the incident a secret from us, and you should not have disappeared on us tonight. I absolutely forgive you for all of these things, as will Prongs. But that’s all I’m able to forgive you for, because nothing else is your fault. Nothing you did justifies Snape retaliating this way. Whoever did this is an evil, hateful person, and it is not your fault that there are evil, hateful people in the world. You are not responsible for other people’s actions.”

 

Sirius chokes out a sob. “Moony, I almost lost you. And you did lose the store, that was supposed to be your future, and I fucking ruined it, and-”

 

“Padfoot, it’s fine. The shop’s insured, and Mr. Spencer is ready for retirement anyway. We’re in the middle of a war, Pads. Nothing’s guaranteed.”

 

“But Moony, people will know about us now. My fucking family will know. You won’t be safe, not as long as we’re together.”

 

Remus smiles bitterly. “I was never safe, Pads. I never will be, not completely. I’m a sodding queer werewolf with Death Eaters sniffing around me. But you know what, Pads? I care more about being happy than being safe. We’re both of age now, and this war’s not going to make anything easier for us. Let’s- if you’re okay with it, let’s just sod it all and be together like a regular couple. We’ll still be discreet, but we can go to those queer bars in Soho without worrying about whether someone saw us go in. We’ll hold hands in the Three Broomsticks without worrying about whether someone will see us and tattle to your mum. I’ll snog you in the middle of Cokeworth and beat the shite out of anyone who looks at us funny.”

 

Sirius lets out a shaky laugh. He tries to imagine Remus brawling in the street, but he can’t get past the thought of Remus folding his cardigan carefully and setting it down on a bench as he politely asks his opponent to please mind the bystanders.

 

“Moony, I- how does this always fucking happen, I make a bloody mess and cause you pain, and still, every time, every fucking time, you end up being the one to comfort me. You shouldn’t forgive me. You should let me fucking rot here and find someone who isn’t a complete waste of space. I don’t fucking understand why you keep me hanging around.”

 

Remus is still holding Sirius’ hands tightly, and he gives them a little squeeze as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Sirius’. “Padfoot, let me tell you what Lily always tells me when I’m being a distressed tosser. You don’t have to understand it. You just have to accept it, because it’s going to happen whether you understand it or not.”

 

He moves his lips down to Sirius’ neck so he can press a kiss at the base, soft and sweet. “Marauders are forever, Pads. And so is this.” Remus stands up, pulling Sirius along with him. “Let’s go home. Mum’s made up the couch for Prongs, and you can sleep in my bed with me. Dad’s owled the school. You two are excused from classes tomorrow, so you don’t need to go back until Sunday evening.” 

 

Remus is smiling at Sirius, looking so fucking beautiful in the moonlight that tears sting the corners of Sirius’ eyes. He doesn’t agree with Remus and his swotty logic, but Sirius knows that he’s too much of a selfish coward to disagree with him. If Remus is daft enough to forgive him, Sirius isn’t strong enough to push him away for his own good. He pulls Remus into a hug, burying his face into those curls that he just can’t get enough of. “Just five more minutes, Moony. Please? I just- I just need … “

 

Remus pulls away, nodding. He turns to conjure a blanket which he lays out on the grass, walking over and settling down on his side, patting the space next to him. Sirius joins him on the blanket, lying on his side and curling into a loose ball. He feels Remus pressing himself firmly against Sirius’ back, feels Remus’ hand moving across his belly in slow, soothing circles, feels Remus’ breath hot against the nape of his neck.

  
Sirius knows he doesn’t deserve to feel so safe, so cared for, so very  _ wanted _ . He knows this, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying it all the same. As he takes a few calm, even breaths, he hears Remus let out a long, shuddering sigh behind him, a sigh that Sirius recognizes as one that indicates Remus is experiencing complete serenity, and as he feels Remus tighten around him, Sirius realizes with a start that somehow,  _ he _ is comforting Remus as well. Somehow, he is making Remus feel better after all the shite that’s happened tonight. The thought makes him bubble up with a warmth that fills him from his toes to the tips of his ears as he snuggles deeper into Remus’ embrace, listening as the sounds of their breathing meld with the chirping crickets, the rustling leaves, the muffled breeze, as if they are a natural part of the clearing, as if they have always belonged here, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the end is nearing! There will be ten chapters total, so we've got three more to go! Next chapter will be up on Friday. As always, thank you for reading, and for all the nice comments that make me smile :)
> 
> Also, since I don't waste enough of my time on these two adorable cupcakes, I've apparently started a wolfstar Tumblr (@nachodiablo) so lmk if you have any wolfstar blog recs!


	8. July 1977

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couches and correspondence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW for this chapter, but there is bit of sexy time, so if that's not your jam, floo home with James and give the pups their privacy until the next set of owl notes.

**Moony- I’ve clipped the obituary for my Uncle Alphard and attached it here. He left a bunch of gold to the Wizarding Civil Liberties Union. I’ve never been prouder of the old queen. I would hope that the shame will give Walburga a heart attack, but that would imply that she has a heart. I know you and your dad will be getting back late tonight, but call me when you get home, no matter what time. I won’t be able to sleep until you do. Only nose kisses from my Moony can lull me to sleep when Prongs is snoring so loudly that I can hear him from down the hall. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- Your uncle sounds like an ace bloke. If all goes well, we should be back around one in the morning. Honestly, though, you purebloods are real nutters sometimes, Who thinks keeping grindylows in a koi pond would be a good idea? It’s like when muggles keep giant pythons or tigers as pets and then act surprised when their beloved companion tries to snack on them. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Thanks for staying on the mirror with me last night until I fell asleep, even though I teased you about that grindylow bite on your arse. Scars are very punk rock, Moony. We’ll have to come up with a better story to tell other people, though. Koi pond skirmishes just aren’t that badass. I know you’re still sleeping, but call me when you wake up and I’ll floo over. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- It was nice to wake up to your note, but it was even nicer to wake up to you curled next to me in my bed. If I’d known how adorable you are when you’re drooling all over my pillow, I’d have snatched you up the first day I met you. Obviously you haven’t been in many koi pond skirmishes if you are unaware that they are most definitely badass. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I was too impatient to wait any longer for your lazy arse to get up, and Hope needed help with the weeding. You should have known that I’d be an adorable drooler, because I am adorable in every single thing I do. I have to go to London tomorrow to meet with Uncle Alphard’s lawyers. I suppose he left me something in his will. Probably a tea service or something equally as thrilling. Want to meet up for lunch afterwards? Leaky Cauldron? Noon? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- Sounds good, I’ll be there. If you’ve inherited something really valuable, you’re paying, and I’m ordering three desserts. -Moony _

 

It is Wednesday, the sixth of July, at twelve fifteen, and Sirius is walking through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron in a daze. He spots Remus in a corner booth, tucking into a rather large basket of chips, and walks over, sitting down across from Remus silently.

 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Hello to you too, Pads. I ordered chips to tide me over, help yourself. Did the meeting go all right?”

 

Sirius chuckles. “You could say that.” He leans over and pops a chip into his mouth. “I’ll definitely be paying for lunch, and Moony, you can order every dessert on the menu.”

 

Remus’ eyes are wide. “Must be quite the posh tea service he left you, then?”

 

“Er, not really a tea service, so much as a flat in London and a decent amount of gold.” Sirius grins wickedly. “Apparently Walburga was furious, tried to contest it. That’s why it took a bit of time for them to sort out the paperwork and contact me.”

 

Remus taps a chip against his lips, looking thoughtful. “Only a decent amount? Sorry Pads, I only date blokes who have obscene amounts of gold.” He laughs and ducks as Sirius flicks a chip at his forehead.

 

Sirius loves seeing Remus this way, happy and laughing and stuffing his face with chips. It’s been nearly three months since the shop burned, and there’ve been no further incidents, but Sirius still hates being apart from Remus, hates seeing that pensive look on his face when he thinks Sirius isn’t looking, even though Sirius is always bloody looking. 

 

It had taken all of Sirius’ self control not to fucking murder Snape on sight that day they had returned to school. James and Remus had spent the hour prior to their return on Sunday evening explaining to Sirius why he mustn’t retaliate. Sirius had been torn between wanting to make that fucking piece of shite pay for his crimes, and fearing that further conflict would only put Remus at risk yet again.

 

It hadn’t been until Evans had come up to him in the common room that evening, giving his hand a squeeze and telling him to let her take care of it, her face so calm and devoid of emotion that it ran a chill down Sirius’ spine, that Sirius had allowed himself to cool down and remain under the radar. The Marauders are still not completely sure as to the details of what happened. All they know is that fucking bastard Snape spent the rest of the school year with COWARD scrawled across his face in raw, angry red scratches, avoiding all contact with anyone outside of his own house. 

 

Seeing that fucking ugly face in potions each week, along with the continued support of James and Evans, had given Sirius the strength to maintain a low profile through the remainder of the school year. He had snuck away to meet Remus every chance he could find, often bringing James, who had been constantly fussing over them both, pushing them even harder in their defensive practices.

 

Now that school’s out, Sirius and Remus are spending every bloody second together that they can, usually mucking about with James, or gardening with Hope, or hanging around Cokeworth with Evans, but Sirius craves the time they manage to spend alone together, just the two of them, like a regular couple.

 

“Move in with me.” Remus drops his chip and looks up at Sirius in surprise. Sirius realizes with a start that he’s said those words out loud, that he's asked Remus to move in with him after throwing fucking chips at his face. 

 

He flushes nervously as Remus keeps looking at him steadily, not saying a word. “Look, Moony, we’re of age, and we need our own space to snog without having to worry about fussing with silencing charms or listening to Prongs cheer us on from the other side of the door. If you still want to kip at your folks’ house some nights when I go back to school, that’s alright, but when we have time together, like now, I want to be …  _ together _ .”

 

A slow smile spreads across Remus’ face, one of those sunny grins that Sirius finds impossible not to return. “I’ll have to see the place first, Pads. If I recall, you once promised me private chocolate reserves. If this flat doesn’t have the appropriate facilities for such a thing, we’ll have to sell it and start looking for something better.”

 

Sirius grabs Remus’ hand from across the table, pulling it closer and bending his head to press a quick kiss to his wrist, right above the clasp of the pewter chain that he never takes off. And then he throws another bloody chip right at the tip of Remus’ nose.

 

**Moony- Here’s that list you wanted. I tallied up all the accessories and linens and dishes and things that mum’s unloading on us. She seems to think we’ll be needing a rather large amount of serving platters and tea towels. I get the feeling she’s going to be disappointed when she comes over for tea and we serve her leftover takeaway out of those dog bowls Prongs bought us. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I’m certain that it was a complete accident, but you did not, in fact, send me a list of items for the flat. The list you sent me was entitled, “Incredible, Edible Parts of My Moony”, which detailed the various specific places on my person where you would like to kiss me, such as “the smallest freckle on his left ankle bone” and “the inner part of the second knuckle on his right pinky” and “the circumference of his belly button.” Perhaps you were unaware, but this list was charmed to read said items aloud when it was opened, which happened to be in the kitchen. During lunch. With my parents. Mum was quite entertained, but dad will be blushing for the next ten years. -Moony _

 

**Moony-  Ah, so that’s where that list wandered off to! It was most certainly an oversight, my dear Moony. How dare you impugn my honor by implying otherwise. By the way, I just received an owl from Hope containing my original list, with her own notations and suggestions added in muggle pen. We can review on Saturday while we are lounging on our new couch as Prongs and Evans move all our stuff. -Pads**

 

It is Saturday, the sixteenth of July, at four in the afternoon, and Sirius needs everyone to clear the fuck out of his flat immediately before he throws Remus down on their new couch and ravishes him right there.

 

Remus, that devious bastard, is innocently chatting with Evans as they sort through the voluminous linens that Mrs. Potter has sent over. Occasionally he turns to laugh at James and Hope, who are organizing the kitchen and bantering as James charms their teacups with various designs and improvements per Hope’s descriptions.

 

Every so often, Remus catches Sirius’ eye, smirking when he sees the scowl on his face. Occasionally, he folds his arms, letting his long fingers brush along the sleeves of the jersey he’s wearing. Sirius’ quidditch jersey, to be specific. It is slightly big on him, a little long in the sleeves and not as tight as it is when filled with Sirius’ own broader shoulders. Remus looks snuggly and delicious in it, and he fucking knows that it’s driving Sirius completely mad to see BLACK written across Remus’ shoulders, to see his house colors draped over Remus’ slender frame.

 

“Alright, kids, I’ve got to get back home and check on Lyall’s bread dough. He’ll lecture my ears off if he comes home tonight and it hasn’t risen  _ properly _ , whatever that means. I’ll have the owl bring you a loaf once it’s ready.” Hope drops a kiss on each forehead in the room. “James, thank you for fixing that teacup for me, by the way. I can’t wait to see Lyall’s face when it screams  _ stop licking me _ while he’s drinking his chamomile tonight.” Her mischievous grin is an exact replica of her son’s.

 

Remus sighs heavily. “I should never have left you two alone together. Prongs, if you’ve charmed all of our teacups and mugs to do whatever ridiculous things Mum’s suggested-”

 

“Now, now, Moony, don’t get shirty. I assure you that at least sixty percent of your mugs are perfectly fine to drink from.” James is smirking, the git. “Hope, you most definitely have the Marauder gene. It’s been a pleasure working with you, as always.”

 

Hope laughs cheerfully. “Well Remus certainly didn’t get it from Lyall, the man who irons his socks.”

 

“Come on, Potter, we should get going as well. Give these two their space. Hope, I can take you through the floo with me.” Evans gives Remus a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, while James and Sirius each get a side hug. After she and Hope pop through the floo, the Marauders are left alone.

 

“Well, I won’t stay long. The way you two pervs have been eye-fucking all day, I’m surprised you’ve been able to last this long.” James grins and pulls Remus into a hug, clapping him on the back.

 

Remus blushes a bit as he pushes James away. “Sod off, Prongs. You’ll be over tomorrow, right? We’ll see what sort of pubs are around our new neighborhood.” 

 

James gives a salute. “I’ll be here with bells on. You sure it’s alright for me to crash here for the night tomorrow? I don’t want to intrude in your puppy love den.”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes and elbows James in the ribs. “I thought we were calling it the kennel? Or was it the pound?”

 

James smiles brightly. “I like the lair, I think. No, puppy love den is too boss not to use. Well, we have time to decide. I’ll see you prats tomorrow.” He pulls Sirius in for a hug. Before he can step through the floo, Remus grabs his arm. 

 

“Prongs, Marauders are forever, so you know that’s how long your invitation to pop in unannounced and harass us will stand for. You bloody git.”

 

James is grinning happily. “Yeah well, try to turn off the fucking floo whenever you’re defiling the living room, eh? Not that I mind seeing that luscious arse of yours, Moony, but we mustn’t have poor Lyall get any more bloody traumatized than he already is from intercepting your pervy sex notes this past month.”

 

Five seconds later, James is through the floo. Two seconds after that, Sirius has the floo spelled shut. Half a second after that, Remus has flung Sirius’ shirt across the room and pinned him to the couch, straddling his hips and devouring his neck like a starving man at a feast.

 

Sirius is moaning, gripping Remus’ curls with both hands as he thrusts his hips upwards. “Fuck, Moony, you know what it bloody does to me, watching you walk around in my jersey. I never want you to wear anything ever again that doesn’t have my fucking name stamped across it.”

 

Remus growls into the crook of Sirius’ neck. “You know what it does to  _ me _ , Pads? Being enveloped in your scent all day- bloody hell, Padfoot.” He grinds down at an angle that causes Sirius to stop breathing for a moment as he feels exactly what it does to Remus. “I’ve been thinking about this all day with what little brain power I’ve been able to maintain.”

 

Sirius is flush with excitement and desire and  _ Remus _ . He moves his hands between them to unfasten their trousers, tugging impatiently as they fumble to shed their trousers, then pants, then socks, and finally that jersey, because as hot as Sirius finds the jersey- and that would be really, really fucking hot- right now he wants to be pressed against Remus’ skin, flush from head to toe with no barriers, here in their own flat, on their own couch.

 

Sirius is lying on his back with Remus on top of him. Remus is grinding his hips against Sirius in a slow cadence that’s making Sirius moan into Remus’ mouth as he traces the scars on Remus’ chest with his fingertips.

 

“Moony … Moony, I want you, I want-” Sirius gasps as Remus clamps his mouth down hotly onto his collarbone, giving it a light suck.

 

“What do you want, Pads? Use your words.” Remus is smirking as Sirius, scowling, reaches up to nip the tip of his nose. Remus rests his forehead against Sirius’, locking their eyes together.

 

“I want  _ you _ , Moony. I want all of you, right here, right fucking now.”

 

Remus blushes a bit, and that little flash of nervousness makes Sirius grab those bloody curls and pull him in for a deep, searing kiss.

 

“I want you too, Pads. I always want you.” Remus is smiling gently now, nuzzing into Sirius’ neck and letting one hand drift slowly down Sirius’ chest, brushing his thumb against Sirius’ nipple, running along the ridges of Sirius’ abs before sliding over to his hip with a firm grip.

 

They’ve come a long way since that night in January when they shared the hotel room. By now, Sirius has touched every molecule of Remus’ skin with his lips, fingers or tongue. He’s even read a few of those books, taking great pleasure in quoting some of the particularly dirty parts aloud dramatically to make Remus flush. Sirius can read Remus like a poem, watching his face, listening to his breathing, feeling the pounding of his heart to figure out exactly what it will take this time to make Remus let go of his control and surrender himself completely to Sirius’ ministrations.

 

Remus is just as skilled at returning the favor, able to make Sirius shiver in eager excitement with just one heated glance that holds so much promise of things to come. It’s more than just getting off. Obviously that part is fucking brilliant, but what Sirius craves the most is how cherished Remus makes him feel whenever they’re together like this, completely open to each other. Sirius feels vulnerable, certainly, but there’s a sort of security to be found in that vulnerability, a sort of security that Sirius has never experienced before this.

 

Right now, Sirius is steadying himself to be even more vulnerable than he’s ever been, as he meets Remus’ gaze and gives him a small nod. Remus’ eyes widen as he places a slow, gentle kiss on Sirius’ lips. They’ve talked about this next step, but Sirius has been reluctant, with something holding him back despite the desperate ache in his chest begging for it, and Remus has been unwilling to let Sirius push forward before he is completely ready. He’s bloody ready today, Sirius thinks to himself, here in their puppy love den (fuck that git James for putting that bloody name into his head), feeling so protected and adored with the heavy weight of Remus resting against him, keeping him grounded.

 

There’s a bit of fussing as Remus considers the best angles, moving the cushions like chess pieces until he’s satisfied that Sirius is in the most comfortable position, according to his swotty smut research. The whispered lubrication charm and that first feeling of Remus’ long fingers sliding into Sirius are familiar, as are the soft, gentle kisses being peppered along Sirius’ hips and thighs as he relaxes into the slow, deliberate movements of Remus’ fingers.

 

“Moony, I’m ready … please, I need … please, Moony.” Sirius is breathless as he tugs on Remus’ shoulder. Remus slides his fingers out of Sirius, moving himself so that he’s looming over him, dropping one last kiss on Sirius’ collarbone before reaching between them to make the necessary adjustments.

 

After some experimenting with angles and positioning, Remus is fully inside Sirius, breathing slowly and deeply as he rests their foreheads together. “Are you alright, Pads? Is everything still okay?”

 

Sirius grins as he looks up at Remus. “Yes. Please, Moony.” Sirius moves his hips a bit, making Remus gasp aloud and causing his own vision to blur for a second as he feels an incredible electricity jolt through him. 

 

As they move together, clinging to each other, hearts pounding so loudly that the downstairs neighbors surely must be able to hear, Sirius swears that he’s going to disable that bloody floo permanently so they’ll never have to stop doing this for even one second.

 

**Moony- I hate when you go on overnight jobs with your dad. Prongs is a terrible cuddler, and he kicks in his sleep. Evans is going to have to wear shin guards if they ever get together. How are you feeling? I still think you should have skipped this one. You haven’t had enough time to rest up since your last camping trip. I’m going to enforce mandatory resting on the couch when you get home. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- You are a liar. You know as soon as you get me on that couch, I won’t be allowed even one moment of rest, you perv. Doesn’t matter as I’m feeling fine. Stop fussing over me like a git. Besides, banshee containment is good money, and I need to earn my keep. I have some news on that front, by the way. I’ll tell you when I get home tomorrow. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’m not going to start the money discussion again, especially not over post where I can’t use my devastatingly handsome stare to distract you. Just as you attempted to distract me with that little news tidbit. You know I’m an impatient prat, Moony. It’s cruel of you to dangle something like that in front of me. Just for that, I’m going to charm something random in the flat to make a lewd remark when touched, and then I’m going to invite your parents over for tea. -Padfoot**

 

_ Pads- You’d already done that before you even read my note, didn’t you? Not that it matters. Mum will only laugh, and I’m starting to suspect that my dad is casting earplug charms when he visits. I’ll be back at the flat around two tomorrow. See you then. I miss you, you tosser. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’ll be flying with Prongs in the morning, but we’ll be waiting for you when you get back. Mrs. Potter’s making gulab jamun, so we’ll save you some. Or rather, Prongs will save you some while I attempt to eat it all, bite by bite. I miss you more than you know, you bloody wanker. -Pads**

 

It is Tuesday, the second of August, at half past one in the afternoon, and Sirius has just busted his fucking nose on the coffee table after that prat James shoves him through the floo without warning.

 

“FUCK! Prongs, you absolute shite- aughh!” Sirius is holding his hands to his face as blood pours out of his nose like a waterfall. “Come through and fix me up before Moony gets home, you bloody awful-”

 

James is laughing as he leaps through the floo gracefully, but when he sees Sirius’ face his eyes widen. “Fuck! I’m sorry, Pads, hang on.” He drops the container of gulab jamun on the floor as he kneels down next to Sirius and fixes his nose with a wand tap before swishing a cleansing spell across his face and robes.

 

“There you are, mate, feeling alright? I’m sorry, Pads, that was fucking-” James lets out a shout of pain as Sirius punches him in the side, pushing him over for a tackle. They wrestle a bit on the ground before they remember that they are proper adults now, not children, and thus graduate to flinging cushions at each other.

 

“Fucking hell, Padfoot! You bloody- Moony? You’re home already?” James looks over Sirius’ shoulder to see Remus sitting at the kitchen table silently, staring down at a note in his hands. Sirius throws his last cushion at James and hurtles over the back of the couch to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible.

 

“Moony! You’re back!” Sirius drops a kiss onto Remus’ forehead. “Everything okay? Why are you reading rather than snogging me senseless?”

 

Remus smiles, rolling his eyes. He folds the parchment carefully before setting it down, pushing his chair back so Sirius can pull him up into a hug. “It’s your own fault for choosing such a swotty boyfriend, Pads. You know I can’t resist the lure of the written word.” He presses a soft kiss to Sirius’ neck, nipping gently. Sirius growls a bit as Remus pulls away, smirking, and sits back down at the table wearily.

 

“How was work, Moony? Did you get any more scars on your arse?” James is dishing the gulab jamun into those ridiculous dog bowls he bought them as a housewarming gift, wriggling his eyebrows at Remus.

 

“No, my arse is still in pristine condition. Banshees are sodding awful, though. Takes bloody forever to get rid of them, and the manor was ridiculously huge, so it was a never ending chase. At least it was a decent bit of gold.” Remus catches the bowl that James slides across the table to him right before it flies off the edge towards the floor.

 

“What’s the bit of news you were taunting me with, Moony? Don’t tell me the old bat who owns the manor propositioned you, and you’ll be leaving us to become a kept man?” Sirius shovels far too big of a bite into his mouth while he talks.

 

“As a matter of fact, she did proposition me.” Remus laughs at Sirius and James’ perturbed expressions. “Her family owns Obscurus Books, the publishing house. They’ve got a new line of defense books in the works. She and I were chatting a bit over tea while dad and I were on a break, and she asked if I’d be interested in doing some editing work for the project.” Remus is speaking quite calmly, but there’s a tinge of pink in his cheeks, and Sirius can see the excitement flashing in his eyes, the note of pride in his voice.

 

“That’s brilliant, Moony! You’ll be a bloody book editor! That’s so … adult! We’ll have to get you swottier reading glasses, although I’m not sure they make anything fucking swottier than the ones you have now.” James is grinning as Remus throws a tea towel at his face.

 

“I’ll not be a real editor, Prongs, just a junior editorial assistant. You know, doing all the grunt work for very little credit or pay. But it’s a start, and I can do the work from home, so there’s no worries about anyone figuring out about my … affinity for camping.”

 

“Moony, that’s bloody terrific. You’ll do great and you know it, you tosser. You’ll be head editor in no time.” Sirius grabs Remus’ hand and gives his wrist a peck before lacing their fingers together.

 

Remus smiles at him, but then he bites his lower lip and furrows his brow. “Yes, well … apparently there’s other news as well. Look at this note I received. It was waiting for me when I got home.” He lets go of Sirius’ hand, unfolds the parchment and pushes it across the table for James and Sirius to read.

 

**_Mr. Lupin,_ **

 

**_I hope that you have been doing well since we last met, some years ago. I hear that you will be taking your NEWTs at the end of the month; I wish you well in your studies, and am certain that you will excel in your testing._ **

 

**_As I am sure you are unfortunately aware, the current political and social situation in the wizarding world is quite volatile, and only seems to be getting worse as time goes on. I would ask that as you consider your options for the future, you take into account the possibility of assisting in the fight against those who would tear us apart. You are a talented wizard, one who would be a valuable asset to the cause._ **

 

**_I will be reaching out to you once the new school year at Hogwarts is underway with further information. However, I would also expect that you will be receiving another invitation before that time, from an organization with a rather different perspective. Although I have no doubt that this proposition will be of little interest to you, I encourage you to be discreet in your response, for reasons that will become clear when we see each other again, which I hope will be quite soon._ **

 

**_All the Best,_ **

 

**_A.P.W.B. Dumbledore_ **

 

James raises an eyebrow. “Dumbledore’s sending you bloody post? What does he mean, the last time you met?”

 

Remus frowns slightly, pulling the note back to study it further. “He delivered my Hogwarts letter. He told my parents that they’d be able to accommodate my monthly issue, but mum and dad decided they didn’t want me burdened with having to keep such a big secret. Mum was afraid someone would find out and … hurt me.”

 

Sirius is scowling. “You’re telling me we could’ve been mates years ago? Bloody hell, think of all the places in the castle we could’ve shagged, Moony!”

 

James rolls his eyes. “Is shagging all you think about? The real tragedy is all the fucking brilliant pranks we could have done! Can you imagine the Marauders at Hogwarts, properly? The Slytherins wouldn’t have spent a single bloody day with their natural hair color.”

 

Remus is smirking. “I’m fairly sure if we’d all gone to school together, we’d have been expelled by now. Probably for something that was Padfoot’s fault, no doubt.” Remus purses his lips thoughtfully, then pushes the note back over to James. “Take a look at that last paragraph. It sounds as though … doesn’t it sound as if he’s expecting that Voldemort will be reaching out to me?”

 

James snatches up the letter and squints as he rereads it. Sirius feels his stomach tightening. He does not want fucking Death Eaters anywhere near Remus. He does not like the fucking sound of any of this. He wishes he had arrived home before Remus today so he could have burnt that letter and pretended it never existed.

 

James is nodding slowly. “Seems that way, Moony. What d’you think he means when he says to be ‘discreet in your response’?”

 

“I assume he wants me to be ambiguous as to whether or not I’ll join up with them.”

 

Sirius throws his fucking spoon across the kitchen. It hits the cabinet with a clatter, silencing Remus and James, who are both staring at him as though he’s gone mad, which he possibly has.

 

“You aren’t going to  _ join up with them _ , Moony, why the fuck- why would Dumbledore think that? Why would they even want you, they want people like that shitehead Snape, and he fucking tried to  _ kill you _ just a few months ago-”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Siri.” James tone is sharp, far harsher than Sirius has ever heard it before, so harsh, in fact, that he shuts the fuck up. He turns to glare at James, but James is too busy staring at Remus. Remus, who is pale, eyes wide, full lips pressed together in a thin line. Sirius has never seen that look on Remus’ face before, and he can’t quite pinpoint what emotions it’s revealing, but he doesn’t fucking like it, not one bit.

 

Remus lets out a slow breath. “Padfoot. First of all, Death Eaters do not choose their comrades based on whether or not they are  _ liked _ , they choose them based on whether or not they are  _ useful _ . You know why I’d be- useful to them, so let’s not discuss  _ that _ point any further. As for why Dumbledore would- think about it, Pads. Dumbledore wants me to work with him, as well as keep the other side interested in me. What outcome could possibly arise from that situation?”

 

Sirius narrows his eyes, feeling his temper rising, feeling his stomach twist harder than it ever has before, feeling his fists curling tightly. “If that old nutter is thinking you’re going to be some sort of- double agent, fucking James Bond situation- no. That’s too dangerous. You’re not- It’s not going to happen, it’s a fucking terrible idea, and I’ll bloody well let that old bastard know-”

 

“Enough.” Remus’ voice is tired, and Sirius realizes that he looks quite drained. He kicks himself for being such an unobservant arse, such a self-centered prat, as per usual.

 

“Padfoot, I appreciate the sentiment, but we’re all going to be involved in this war in one way or another. None of us are going to be safe any time soon, but if we’re willing to take some risks, perhaps one day we will be. Besides, nothing has happened yet. There’s no need to work yourself up. Maybe Voldemort will wander into an acromantula den on his next nature hike, and that’ll be the end of it.”

 

James snickers, but Sirius feels as though a cold, steel fist is clenched in the pit of his gut. This is no bloody good at all, he knows this, he definitely knows this, but he also knows that there’s no point in talking to Remus about it when he’s so drained from banshees and the moon and that stupid fucking note.

 

“Alright you fucking prats, let’s go watch that telly-vision. Pads and I got it working while you were away, Moony. I’ll flip through the channels and find something boss, and Moony, you can nap on the couch while Padfoot stares adoringly at you and swoons every time you snuffle out one of those little wolfy snores that you do.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes, but follows James into the living room. He turns to face Sirius, a guarded expression on his face. “Are you coming, Pads? I really … I could use some rest, and I won’t be able to relax unless you’re with me.” 

 

He’s blushing a bit, causing Sirius’ throat to tighten. Sirius stands up and walks over to Remus, wrapping his arms around him and holding him firmly against his chest. Sirius feels bloody terrible for causing Remus so much stress. There will be plenty of time for him to crush this stupid fucking idea, he decides. For now, Sirius’ first priority will be making sure Remus gets enough rest and chocolate for the remainder of the week.

 

_ Pads- I have the dates. This is not a drill. Whatever you are doing right now, stop immediately and floo over to the Leaky Cauldron. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’m a little busy right now. They’re showing** **_Dr. No_ ** **on the telly again. You know I can’t just get up and leave Sean Connery. What dates are you talking about, anyway? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- You utter git. S.P.O.T.S. dates of course. Prongs and I are planning it out, but if you don’t want to come, by all means stay home and wank to  _ Dr. No _ for the hundredth time. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Why didn’t you say so, you prat? Be right there. S.P.O.T.S. beats wanking any day. -Pads**

 

It is Wednesday, the seventeenth of August at three in the afternoon, and Sirius is barrelling through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron at top speed. He spots James and Remus at a corner booth, pouring over a mess of floo maps and muggle train schedules.

 

He hurries over, sliding into the booth next to Remus and dropping a quick kiss on his head. “Alright, Marauders, this is bloody happening. After months of being banned in the UK, the Sex Pistols are back, underground and illegal, the most punk rock way to tour. S.P.O.T.S.- Sex Pistols On Tour Secretly. Moony, tell me you’ve used your swotty skills and innocent facade to gather the required intel.”

 

Remus is grinning as he waves a piece of parchment in the air. “I’ve got it, Pads. Well, I’ve got what I think are the first three shows they’ll be playing. Wolverhampton on Friday the nineteenth, Doncaster on Wednesday the twenty fourth, and Scarborough on Thursday the twenty fifth.”

 

Sirius frowns slightly. “That’s cutting it awfully close to your camping trip, Moony. Maybe we should aim for the nineteenth then.”

 

“One step ahead of you, Pads, as always.” James is smirking as shuffles his various maps and timetables. “We can take the muggle train there, it’s less than two hours, but we’ll probably miss the last train home, so we’ll have to take the knight bus back. No decent floo locations in the area, but that’s alright. It’ll be more of an adventure this way!”

 

Sirius snorts. “You’ve been on the Hogwarts Express train and the knight bus before. Not really much of an adventure.”

 

James grins like a prat as he leans back in his seat. “Yeah, but this time it will be for illicit punk rock reasons! That’s the real adventure. D’you think there will be a fight at the show? Maybe the muggle aurors will arrest us and we’ll have to break out of the non-magical Azkaban. Wonder how hard it’d be? It’d be fucking ace, that’s for sure.”

 

Remus sighs. “I’ll have Lily ready with bail money just in case. You twats.”

 

“I wish Lily was coming along. It’d be nice to have some company while you two sneak off to snog. Too bad she was put off by all the spitting at the Generation X show.”

 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to go back to being creepy around her, Prongs, really? Now that we’re all getting along so nicely?”

 

James looks indignant. “Merlin’s bollocks, Moony! I didn’t mean it in a pervy way. I actually enjoy Lily’s company. We’re all mates now, aren’t we? And once we’ve graduated and have proper adult jobs, then I’ll go back to wooing her, the proper adult way, with dinners out and fucking flowers and what not.”

 

Remus is smirking now. “Ah, so you haven’t given that up, then? You’ve been very well behaved, I have to admit.”

 

James scoffs at this. “Give up on my Tiger-Lily? On my fucking  _ destiny _ ? Never! I’m just waiting for the right time. We’ve got that transfiguration project and our tutoring going on right now, and I don’t want anything fucking that up. Besides, I figure it’ll be less pressure when we aren’t sleeping down the hall from each other and she can make a clean getaway if she should feel so inclined. Not that she’ll want to by then.” He grins roguishly as Sirius pelts him with balled up napkins.

 

Remus nudges Sirius. “Let me out of the booth, I’ve got to use the loo.” He squeezes Sirius’ thigh before they slide out of the booth. Sirius grins as he watches Remus head back to the loo, loving the way his arse looks in the jeans Sirius bought him from the thrift shop. Tight in all the right places, torn up a bit on the knees and thighs, darker blue against his pale skin-

 

“Oi, Pads, eyes over here, while Moony is in the loo. You and Lily have time to go over that last set of notes? I need the okay to move forward with that next potion, but I don’t want to fucking blow up dad’s study.”

 

Sirius turns back to James reluctantly. “Yeah, Evans and I went over it. We’re good to go. Evans wants to be there when you start it, though. You know how territorial she gets about the potions.”

 

James grins, dropping his chin into his hand. “She can be as territorial as she wants. Merlin’s bollocks, that girl is brilliant. We’d have been pants at this on our own- well, no, that’s not true, we’re fairly brilliant as well. But it would have been a lot bloody harder, that’s for sure. I bet we’ll be finished before the New Year.”

 

Sirius smiles to himself, thinking about what a brilliant holiday gift it will be for Remus, to see all three of his friends transform, to know that they’ve worked so hard for him, to realize how much they care and worry about him each month when he has to go away. He’s also a bit excited at the thought of running amok with a werewolf, if he’s honest with himself. How much more fucking punk rock can you get?

 

His smile disappears as he turns back towards the loo to look for Remus and sees him standing off in a dark corner, talking with some bloke. Sirius squints a bit and realizes that it’s Evan Rosier, a filthy Slytherin who graduated last year and is most certainly a fucking Death Eater by now. Sirius is about to storm over and cause a scene when he feels James’ tight grip on his wrist.

 

“Sit boy. Let Moony handle this. And stop fucking looking at them. Play it straight.” James is calm, but firm as he jabs the inside of Sirius’ wrist with a fingernail, hard and deep.

 

“Ouch! You arse- let go, I’m fine. I won’t do anything.” Sirius is glowering darkly, but he focuses his gaze on James, letting James prattle on about some quidditch thing or whatever as he silently seethes, every fiber in his body poised to spring into action should Remus need backup.

 

Sirius is irritated at James for being so blase about the whole thing, until he notices James’ eyeballs darting towards Remus at regular intervals, his hand resting casually over his wand, his feet planted firmly on the floor in case he needs to leap up in a hurry. Sirius feels like a fucking prat. Why can’t he be like Remus and James, so unassuming, so cool under pressure, why does he always have to get himself worked up into a bloody frenzy, why does he always make everything more bloody stressful than it needs to be?

 

He doesn’t look over as he hears Remus walking towards them, tapping lightly on Sirius’ shoulder when he arrives. “Pads, slide over, please.”

 

Sirius silently moves over to give Remus room to sit. He’s not looking at Remus or James, staring instead at his hands that he’s folded on the table top. Remus doesn’t say a word, either. He slides his hand across Sirius’ lower back until it’s circling his hip, squeezing it gently as he casts a few privacy charms, though the pub is nearly empty.

 

“Nothing to worry about, it seems. Just the usual stuff I’ve already heard from- other werewolves. They know I’ve turned down offers to run with a pack, so they sent that bloke to try and appeal to my  _ wizarding nature _ . Complete arse, by the way. Looked at me like I was dung beetle and refused to shake my hand. Not the best look for an envoy, eh?”

 

James scoffs at this. “What a fucking prat. He’s awfully high and mighty for someone who fell off his broom during the house quidditch finals two years ago. Blew the whole bloody game. It was brilliant, Moony. His own team hexed him with a pig snout for a week.”

 

Remus chuckles, drawing Sirius a bit closer. “He doesn’t think you lot know about me, by the way. Daft git. They have to know Pads and I are together by now. Do they really think I could keep a boyfriend this long without having him figure it out? Do they think I have such low standards that I’d date someone so daft they wouldn’t be able to figure it out?”

 

“Probably best they think that, eh? It’s always good when we know more than they do.” James sounds serious now as he leans in towards Remus. “What did you tell them, then? What are the next steps?”

 

Remus gives Sirius’ hip another squeeze. Sirius works hard to keep his breathing even and unruffled as he turns to face Remus finally, awaiting his response.

 

“He didn’t ask anything of me. Just told me to consider my options for now. Said they knew Dumbledore would want to bring me around his crowd, and that … that I might change my mind after I’d met a few more of Dumbledore’s colleagues.” Remus winces at this. “I suppose they’re implying that Dumbledore’s group might not be keen on working with a werewolf. That’s not necessarily a wrong assumption, I suppose, but they’re mental if they think that means I’ll want to become a sodding Death Eater instead.”

 

James is shaking his head. “Fuck anyone who’d think badly about you for that, Moony. The Marauders are a package deal. If they want one of us, they get all of us, or none of us.”

 

Remus smiles without humor. “That’s what Dumbledore is probably counting on, I’m afraid.” He looks over at Sirius. “Come on, Pads, shall we go home and catch the last bit of Sean Connery? Prongs, we can order from that Thai place you like down the street, and finish off that firewhiskey in the pantry.”

 

James whoops happily as he springs up from his chair. “A good old fashioned sleepover, I like it. C’mon you tossers, last one back has to pick up the food whilst sporting a handlebar mustache.”

 

As Sirius and Remus follow James over to the floo, Remus slips a hand through Sirius’, tangling their fingers together. “Don’t worry about it, Pads. Everything will work out.” Remus’ smile is gentle, and Sirius manages to return it, though his own smile is not so sunny. He’s not sure if he is angry, or scared, or nervous, or some other bloody unknown emotion. All Sirius can say for sure as he steps through the floo is that even though he never wants to let go of the pale hand that’s squeezing his own so tightly, he will have to do so eventually, and he will break a little bit inside when he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yipes, things are getting tense! Two more chapters to go- chapter 9 should be up on Tuesday. Hope everyone has a great weekend, and thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think, either here or on Tumblr (@nachodiablo).


	9. October 1977

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buns and bigots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mild bigotry, but if you’ve made it this far, you’ve nothing to fear.

**Moony- I should have taken my NEWTS with you in August so I could be done with this education rubbish. I’ll never make it through this last year of school. I shall perish from boredom. I already know everything they’re teaching in class, and now that Prongs is head boy, we never have time to plan any pranks. I will never forgive you and Evans for infecting him with your swottiness (which is most definitely a word, Moony, no matter what you and that bloody dictionary say). I can only be grateful that my soul is so truly and deeply punk rock that I am able to evade such corruption. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- In the month since school has started, you’ve made the great hall ceiling mimic a tornado, let loose a herd of pygmy puffs in the third floor corridor, sent embarrassingly descriptive romantic howlers to each quidditch team captain (including Prongs), and charmed every fifth stair in the entire castle to say “ouch” when stepped on. Not to mention the ridiculous owls you’ve been sending me. The one filled with Peruvian instant darkness powder made me trip over a chair when I opened it, you prat. I shudder to think of what you could do if you didn’t have to fuss about schoolwork. -Moony _

 

**Moony- You’re one to talk. I know it was you who owled me that gift basket at breakfast the other day filled with “prescription rash cream for hard-to-reach places.” Stag and Wolf pharmacy, indeed, you evil git. You’d better watch your back when I see you on Saturday in Hogsmeade, Moony. There will be retaliation. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I’ll be snogging you too ferociously for you focus on anything else. At which point, I’ll be able to retaliate instead while you are distracted. -Moony _

 

It is Thursday, the sixth of October, at half past four in the afternoon, and Sirius is leaning back in his chair at the far corner table in the library, thoroughly ignoring Evans and James as they review the final steps for the animagi transformations. Sirius knows that those two are more than capable of figuring out the details, and neither of them will care much for his input, so he is letting himself daydream about seeing Remus on Saturday, mulling over where the best place in Hogsmeade would be to sneak off for a shag.

 

“Er, excuse me? Sirius?”

 

Sirius looks up to see two Ravenclaw girls standing next to him, a redhead and a brunette. The redhead is giggling, while the brunette is standing in front of her defiantly with a nervous smile on her face. Sirius knows neither of them, and wishes they would piss off, but he smiles politely instead, not wishing to cause a scene and get booted from the library for the eighth time this year already.

 

“Can I help you ladies with something?” Sirius raises an eyebrow, causing the giggling redhead to blush furiously, clashing quite horribly with her hair, Sirius thinks. 

 

The brunette clears her throat. “Er, yes, I was wondering … if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?”

 

Sirius is a bit taken aback. He hasn’t been asked to Hogsmeade in quite awhile, much to his pleasure. James says it’s because he was a “mess of fucking mood swings” last year. 

 

This year, Sirius has been generally more cheerful. He and Remus have agreed not to speak or even think about the war or anything war related until they absolutely have to. They’ve both been making a point to be extra affectionate whilst meeting up or chatting over the mirror or plotting pranks against James. Sirius is working very hard on controlling his emotions, in the hopes that when things start getting dodgy and the Marauders are counting on him, he won’t be the one fucking everything up by making a rash decision. If, on occasion, he feels his stomach clenching tightly, or if there is sometimes a nervous fluttering in his chest, well, that’s easily shoved away to the recesses of his brain.

 

“Sorry, I’m seeing someone, and they’ll be meeting me at Hogsmeade.” Sirius doesn’t bother thanking the girl for asking, because he’s not thankful that she did, and he’s not going to lie to be polite to someone who would proposition a complete bloody stranger.

 

The brunette looks at the redhead quickly before replying. “Oh, is it … well, I heard you were seeing … er, that is … a, um-”

 

“A bloke?” James interrupts her stammering, grinning like a prat.

 

The brunette blushes furiously. “Er, yes, that is-”

 

“And you still asked him anyway? Bit of a homewrecker then, are you?” James is positively beaming as the brunette gets more and more flustered. Sirius and Evans glance at each other and share a smirk.

 

“I’ll confirm it for you. The rumors are true. I’m seeing a bloke, and he’s brilliant. Quite fit too, Evans can attest to that, isn’t that right Evans?”

 

Evans is trying her hardest to suppress her mirth as the two Ravenclaws turn to her with wide eyes. “Yes … Black’s bloke is quite fit.”

 

“There you are, ladies, you have your information. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got some studying to get back to.” 

 

Before Sirius can turn away, the redhead whispers loudly, “Your bloke, is he the one who gave you that rash?”

 

James bursts into laughter, the fucking git. Sirius merely grins and shakes his head. “No, that was from the time I had to borrow James’ pants on laundry day.” James laughs even harder at this, causing Evans to let out a snicker as the two Ravenclaws scuttle away, tittering to each other.

 

Sirius is shaking his head. “Merlin’s bollocks. I’ve got to start snogging Moony more in Hogsmeade, keep the birds off my back.”

 

“I don’t think seeing you two snogging is going to turn many girls away, Black. You two are quite an attractive couple.” Evans is grinning at Sirius’ flushed face. 

 

“Well, I think we’re done here for the day. Lily, I’ll make the changes we talked about, and we can meet again on Sunday evening after rounds for the next step.” James starts packing up his things. “Lily, do you want me to drop your bag in the dorms so that you can go ahead and monitor the hallways? The second year Hufflepuffs keep getting caught in the suits of armour on the landing off the back staircase.”

 

“Er … yes, Potter, that’d be great. Thanks.” Evans is being quite slow to pack her bag, Sirius notices, as she keeps stopping what she’s doing to tug on a lock of her hair or drum her fingers against the table. Sirius catches her eye and raises an eyebrow questioningly, causing her to scowl at him menacingly, which in turn causes Sirius to snicker.

 

Evans takes a deep breath and turns to James. “Potter. Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday?”

 

Sirius nearly falls out of his chair, but James merely looks over calmly. “Certainly, Lily. Pads and I usually head over around eleven, but we can go at a different time if you’d like. We just need to let Moony know so he can floo over to meet us.”

 

Evans has a pained expression on her face, as if she’s trying to hide the fact that she’s swallowed a mouthful of bubotuber pus. “No, Potter … I meant, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with  _ me _ ? As in, do you want to go …  _ together _ ?”

 

Sirius has never seen James’ eyes open so wide, wide enough that Sirius fears his eyeballs might pop out of his head and roll across the table into Evans’ lap. He shoots a light stinging hex at James’ ribs discreetly.

 

“Augh! Fu- er, excuse me, Lily.” James clears his throat and attempts to pull himself together. “That is to say, of course, yes, I would most definitely want to go to Hogsmeade with you. Together.” He’s grinning like a bloody git now, and Sirius notices Evans’ face relaxing into a small smile as they stare at each other for far too long. Sirius, growing quite bored with their daft gaping, contemplates charming rabbit ears on them both while they are distracted, but decides against it, not wanting to hear Remus’ lecture later when Evans tattles on him.

 

Eventually, Evans gathers her things and leaves the library, ignoring Sirius’ smirk. As soon as she’s gone, James lets out a groan and bangs his head onto the table, gripping his hair with both hands.

 

“Merlin’s fucking bollocks, Pads. I’m going to fuck this up. This is my one bloody chance with my Tiger-Lily, and I am in no way prepared. I thought I had more time! I’m going to fuck this up for sure.”

 

“Probably.” Sirius is nodding in agreement as he subtly charms some blue streaks into James’ hair.

 

“Piss off, Pads! You’re no help at all, you bloody prat. I worked my bloody arse off to get you your boyfriend. You could at least attempt to return the fucking favor, you git.” James is looking up at him now with the sad puppy eyes that Sirius himself uses when he wants something. Sirius sighs and takes pity on the lovesick wanker.

 

“Prongs, I needed all the help I could get because I’m a bloody mess of a person. You, on the other hand, are a brilliant bloke who doesn’t need any barmy advice from the likes of me. Evans knows you well enough by now to know what she’s getting herself into. Anyway, even if you do fuck it up, I’m sure she’ll give you another chance.  _ She _ asked  _ you _ , didn’t she? That means something.”

 

James is grinning again, ruffling his unknowingly charmed hair. “You’re bloody right, Pads.  _ She _ asked  _ me _ . She  _ asked _ me. This is the most fucking romantic moment of all time, even more romantic that that time you charmed all of Moony’s pants to sing David Bowie songs.”

 

Sirius rolls his eyes. There is no bloody way that Evans and James will ever be more romantic that Remus and him. “Why don’t you go owl Moony the good news then? I’ll take all this stuff to the dorms and meet you at dinner. I’m sure Moony will have better advice on how not to be a raging git this Saturday.”

 

“Thanks Pads, you’re an ace mate. You fucking tosser.” James claps Sirius on the shoulder and hurries out of the library, looking like some sort of garish, punk rock zebra.

 

**Moony- Now that Prongs and Evans have successfully completed their first date, can we please, please, please prank them on the next one? I have so many fantastic ideas. It is simply cruel of you to force me to deprive the world of such magnificent mischief. We can discuss more when we meet up for my birthday in a few weeks. We need to confirm the details for that, so let me know. I’m glad that you won’t be on a camping trip. It’s an auspicious start to my eighteenth year, certainly. Did you also notice that both the Sex Pistols and the Ramones are giving me birthday gifts? Never Mind the Bollocks right before my birthday, Rocket to Russia right after. The punk rock gods are acknowledging my awesomeness. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- We absolutely cannot prank Lily and Prongs’ second date. Their third date, however, is fair game. I will be expecting your very best efforts. While I am impressed by the punk rock gods’ offerings to the altar of Padfoot, I’ll admit that I’m more excited for Wire’s debut in December. Sid Vicious’ antics are beginning to wear on me, and the Ramones are becoming too commercial for my tastes. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Only you would think that the Ramones are “too commercial”, you bloody snob. You think a band is too commercial when they sell more than fifty records. If Wire’s album sells fifty one records, you’ll be calling them sellouts. I was thinking, how about instead of going out to celebrate my birthday, we just spend the night at the flat together? Just you and me. I have a quidditch match on Saturday, but I can sneak away afterwards while everyone else is celebrating our assured victory. It’s been too bloody long since I’ve been able to sneak away, and I don’t feel much like sharing you. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I like the sound of that plan, very much, with one addition. How would you feel about me attending the match that Saturday? Lily says there shouldn’t be too much drama with you lot playing Hufflepuff, and since we’re out as a couple now, I thought it might be nice to come and cheer you and Prongs on. It’s just a suggestion; if it will make you nervous or uncomfortable at all, let me know. As long as we’re snogging by the end of the night, I’ll be happy. -Moony _

 

**Moony- There is nothing I want more than for you to be here for the match. And we’d better be snogging by half past three at the absolute latest, you git. -Pads**

 

It is Saturday, the fifth of November, at ten in the morning, and Sirius is standing on the edge of the quidditch pitch, wrestling his thick hair into a bun to keep it out of his eyes, scanning the crowd eagerly, looking for Remus and Evans, attempting to tune out James’ annoying prattling.

 

“-and so I’m not sure if we’re  _ dating _ , like boyfriend and girlfriend dating, or if she just wants to keep it casual, but I can’t  _ ask _ , can I, because that would be bloody fucking awkward, and what if it scares her off, but then again, if we can’t talk about things, how the bloody hell can we have a real relationship-”

 

“Stuff it, Prongs. Look up there in the stands. I don’t think you’ve got to worry about Evans’ intentions, mate.” Sirius has spotted Remus and Evans making their way towards Evans’ mates in the stands. Remus catches his eye and waves, grinning wickedly as he tugs on Evans’ arm to get her attention. Evans looks a bit nervous, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, but she smiles and calms down a bit once Remus whispers something into her ear. Once they can see that both James and Sirius are watching them, they turn around so their backs are towards the pitch.

 

Both are wearing Gryffindor quidditch jerseys. Remus’ says BLACK across the back, while Evans’ says POTTER. Sirius thinks James is going to pass out in a dead faint on the pitch before the game even starts as his eyes go wide and he elbows Sirius sharply in the side.

 

“Merlin’s fucking bollocks, Padfoot, please tell me I’m not hallucinating.” James looks as though he’s not sure whether he should grin and wave at Evans or spew all over the pitch. Sirius hopes he chooses the former, but he suspects that even the latter won’t put Evans off the prat by this point.

 

Sirius flushes as Remus winks at him, smirking as he settles down next to Evans. Sirius is grinning back like a bloody git. He doesn’t fucking care if anyone gives him shite today. His Remus is here today for him, supporting him, cheering for him, cheering for that prat James as well, of course, but mostly for Sirius. They aren’t in any real danger here at Hogwarts. For one day, they can be safe and happy and fucking adorable, the way Sirius wants them to be all the time.

 

Sirius turns to James, punching him on the shoulder. “Get it together, Prongs. The sooner we beat Hufflepuff, the sooner we’ll be snogging our dates, assuming you don’t fall off your broom in the meantime.”

 

It is a quick game indeed, seeing as Hufflepuff’s team is experiencing a building year. James scores the most goals he has at a single game so far this season, grinning and waving at Evans after each one. Sirius makes several impressive bludger blocks, though it takes all of his restraint, along with several warning glances from McGonagall, not to make any overly lewd gestures with his bat.

 

Sirius takes the fastest shower of his life in the locker rooms before hurrying to the Gryffindor common room where Remus said he’d be waiting after the game. He finds Remus chatting with Evans’ giggly group of girlfriends. Remus has changed out of Sirius’ jersey into his usual attire of jeans, tshirt and cardigan, the dark blue one with the brown elbow patches, which is Sirius’ favorite.

 

When Remus spots Sirius, he beams brightly, but shoves his hands in his pockets, looking unsure as to how he should react. Sirius does not hesitate as he walks over to Remus and pulls him in for a snog. He ignores the twittering of the girls as he throws an arm around Remus’ shoulders, pulling him close.

 

“Well, ladies, it looks like you’ve met my better half. Evans’ better half, too, for that matter. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have to give him the grand tour of Hogwarts, so we’d best be off.” Sirius winks as he drags Remus away from the chattering crowd and steers him out of the common room into the hall.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he and Remus are in an empty classroom, snogging furiously on one of the desks. 

 

“You’re a poor excuse for a guide, Pads. Two dingy hallways and a dusty classroom does not a grand tour make.” Remus is kissing Sirius’ neck, fussing impatiently with the buttons on his shirt to gain better access to the spots where the sneaky prat knows his kisses will make Sirius go wobbly in the knees.

 

“Oi, Moony, I didn’t see you filing any complaints with my tour guide skills when you were pushing me up against every portrait we passed for a snog and an arse grope.” Sirius is letting his hands wander down Remus’ back, preparing to do some arse grabbing of his own.

 

“It’s your own fault, Pads. You had your hair thrown up in a bun during that entire bloody quidditch match. You’re such a prat, you did that on purpose to tease me.” Remus nips lightly at Sirius’ earlobe as he begins his descent down Sirius’ neck, leaving a trail of slow, wet kisses in his wake.

 

“I’m the tease? What about you and that bloody jersey, hm? You’re just lucky you changed out of it or else there’d have been no tour at all. I’d have pulled you on top of me and shagged you rotten right there on the bloody common room floor, and then what would you have thought of my tour guide skills, eh?”

 

“I’m sure you are an excellent tour guide, Mr. Black, but I do need to interrupt this particular tour, if you two gentlemen would be so kind as to give me a moment?”

 

Sirius shrieks as Remus leaps away from him, smacking his head into Sirius’ chin as he hastily scrambles to straighten his clothes, blushing as red as a strawberry. Sirius is scowling as he turns to the doorway to see who the fuck just interrupted them. He balks a bit when he sees bloody Dumbledore standing there, a bemused grin on his face.

 

“Er- sir, hello- I was just- showing Remus around Hogwarts, since he doesn’t go here- which of course you know already-” Sirius can’t even remember being so flustered. He takes back every snicker and jape he’s flung at his prat classmates who’ve gotten caught snogging over the years. 

 

Dumbledore is still smiling as though he’s just caught them debating the merits of the latest academic article in  _ Transfiguration Today _ . “I do apologise for the interruption, once again, but I heard Mr. Lupin was visiting, and I did want to talk to you two. Mr. Lupin, you received my letter this past August, I presume?”

 

Remus nods. “Yes, sir, I did. Your … prediction was correct.”

 

“Ah, I am sorry to hear that. However, I do hope you heeded my advice?” When Remus nods again, Dumbledore continues. “Well then, I would like to invite you both to a meeting next month. As you know, the political atmosphere these days is rather tense. I am part of an organization fighting to bring peace and equality back to the wizarding world. We call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix.”

 

Sirius mulls this over in his head. Order of the Phoenix. Sounds like it could be pretty ace.

 

“You will each be receiving correspondence with the logistical details at a later date. Your friends, Miss Evans and Mr. Potter, will be receiving invitations as well. I am sure there is no need for me to ask that you be discreet in your conversations, but I will ask it of you regardless.”

 

Dumbledore’s voice is mild, but his blue eyes are sharp, piercing into Sirius’ own like icicles, making Sirius feel as though he’s already betrayed Dumbledore’s trust by merely thinking about the Order of the Phoenix too loudly.

 

“We’ll be discreet, sir. You know that all four of us are quite good at keeping secrets.” Sirius’ stomach tightens a bit at Remus’ comment. He is not as skilled at keeping secrets as the others. He has already let loose one secret, one secret that had nearly cost Remus his life. He’ll not risk that a second time.

 

“I’m certain that all of you are quite trustworthy, or else I would not have reached out to you.” Dumbledore hasn’t let his eyes leave Sirius’ gaze. Sirius squirms under the scrutiny, feeling as though the old man can read his thoughts, see his fears, feel his doubts.

 

“Now, might I suggest that you take Mr. Lupin on a tour of the grounds? It’s much too nice a day to be cooped up inside.” Dumbledore’s smile widens as Sirius mutters a goodbye and pulls Remus out of the classroom, blushing furiously.

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, I can’t believe the old nutter almost caught us shagging. Prongs would have never let us hear the bloody end of it.” Sirius is still a bit pink as he and Remus stroll along the lake, hand in hand.

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he’s caught students doing worse in the last hundred years since he started at Hogwarts. At least you’re fit. Would’ve been quite a treat for him to catch a peek of your arse, I bet.” Remus smirks as Sirius pretends he’s going to push him into the lake.

 

Suddenly Remus stops walking, turning to face Sirius, a grave expression on his face. “Pads … they aren't going to like me. The other Order members. What if they … I want to help win this war, but I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

 

Sirius is scowling. “Merlin’s pants, Moony, the whole point of this bloody war is so the Death Eaters stop treating certain groups as less-than. I can’t imagine people fighting against those bigoted twats would be so judgmental about your camping affinity.”

 

Remus smiles sadly. “I wish that were true, Pads, I really do, but the world doesn’t work that way. People aren’t all or nothing. I can’t expect that just because someone isn’t prejudiced against muggle borns that they’ll jump for joy about working with- someone like me.”

 

Sirius laces his fingers through Remus’, pulling him close and resting their foreheads together. “Someone like you? Someone who’s brave and brilliant and kind and is the most punk rock person I know? Those tossers would be lucky to have you. And if they aren’t, if they give you any shite, they’ll have to answer to Prongs, and Evans, and me.”

 

Remus chuckles as he gently places a kiss against Sirius’ lips. “We all know that Lily is the real threat amongst us. I suppose if she’ll vouch for me, I might be okay.”

 

Sirius draws Remus against his chest, allowing their chins to nestle on each other’s shoulders, their hands to rest on each other’s backs, their inhales and exhales to sync with each other’s breaths. Sirius understands why Remus is worried, of course he does, but he also knows that there’s nothing to be concerned about. They’ll go to this meeting, they’ll be accepted, they’ll start planning, and come graduation, they’ll begin their work to end this war, together.

 

**Moony- did you get your details? I’m a bit irritated about the timing. Too close to your camping trip. Are you going to be feeling well enough to go? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I did receive the details. I’ll be fine. Better before than after, I suppose. Don’t be irritated. They can’t be expected to plan everything around my schedule. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’m still irritated. I shall be less irritated when I see you again at the train station on Friday. This semester has been too bloody long. I’m looking forward to spending a whole week with my Moony. Let’s not leave the flat all week. Let’s not even leave the couch all week. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- That sounds good to me, though you’ll have to invite Prongs over to take my place on the twenty fifth, of course. If Lily will consent to sharing. -Moony _

 

**Moony- We are the ones who are consenting to share our fellow marauder with that interloper Evans. Prongs may be a git, but he is our git. Evans is merely lucky that we need someone to mind him at times whilst we sneak off for a shag. That, and of course the fact that she’s got ace hexing skills now, thanks to your tutelage. See you on Friday, tosser. -Pads**

 

It is Friday, the twenty third of December, at five minutes to nine in the evening, and Sirius is standing in his living room holding onto one tentacle of a stuffed octopus. Remus, James, and Evans are each holding one of the other tentacles. 

 

They are all trying to act calm, but Sirius knows that they’re all as excitable as a bunch of nifflers locked in Gringotts for the evening. James’ eyes are bright, and he can’t stop fussing with his hair, making him look as though he’s been electrified. Evans is pressing her lips together, trying not to grin too widely, although she keeps sneaking somber looks at Remus. 

 

Remus looks tired. He has looked tired all evening. He had been happy to see them at the train station earlier that afternoon, snogging Sirius with a passion usually reserved for when they are alone. Now, as they wait for the portkey to take effect, Sirius can see Remus nervously pulling at the edge of his jumper, running his finger under the collar of his button down shirt, chewing on his bottom lip a tad too roughly. Sirius does not like seeing Remus nervous. It is not a sight he sees very often. It is quite disconcerting.

 

As the clock strikes nine, Sirius feels the pull of the portkey as they pop out of the flat and into an unfamiliar foyer. Sirius rests a hand on the small of Remus’ back. “You alright, Moony?”

 

Remus smiles grimly. “I’m fine, Pads. I’ll be fine.” His pale face and stooped shoulders beg to differ, but Sirius does not push the matter.

 

“Oi, you the Hogwarts lot, then?” A redheaded bloke a few years older than them has come over to greet them. Sirius thinks he looks familiar, but he can’t place a name to the face. Luckily he doesn’t have to, as the bloke introduces himself as he sticks out his hand towards James for a shake, a wide grin on his face.

 

“Welcome to my humble abode. The name’s Prewett, Fabian Prewett. I was a few years ahead of you at Hogwarts. Potter, nice to see you again. I hear you’ve got an ace quidditch team this year. Not as good as my seventh year when we beat the snot out of Slytherin in twenty minutes to win the cup, but still, I suppose you’re doing your best.” Fabian grins as James punches him in the arm.

 

“Nice to see you again, Fab. I’ll remind you that I was the chaser that scored two goals in that game, you fucking prat. Not bad for a third year, eh?” James is grinning, clapping Fabian on the back. “This is your place, then? Where’s Gid? Oh, shite- I suppose I should introduce you. Fab, this lovely lady is Lily Evans, and these prats are Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.”

 

Fabian grins cheerfully as he shakes each of their hands, saving Remus for last. “Lupin, eh? You need a glass of water or something? You look a bit peaky.”

 

Remus smiles back tiredly. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit tired.”

 

Fabian’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh, that’s right! You’re the- y’know. That’s wild. It’s great to meet you. Always thought it would be neat to have one of your kind as a mate.”

 

Remus looks at Fabian with caution as Fabian shakes his hand again with more enthusiasm than Sirius feels is necessary. Sirius is holding back his scowl. It is not  _ neat _ to have Remus as a mate, it is fucking amazing, and not because Remus is a bloody werewolf. He catches Evans’ eye and can tell that she’s thinking along the same lines.

 

“Oi, Gid! He’s here! Come and say hello!” Fabian calls over to his twin, whom Sirius can now remember is called Gideon. Gideon comes over to greet them, grinning especially wide when he gets to Remus.

 

“We’re happy to have you here, Lupin. Don’t worry about a thing, we’re happy to work with you, even if you’ve got, er, a furry little problem. I know quite a bit about your kind, you know. Been doing some research for Dumbledore. A real shame, it is, the way they’re treated. You’re a lucky bloke, to have mates like these who support you.”

 

Sirius is fucking irritated beyond belief. Who do these bloody gits think they are? Furry little problem? What sort of stupid fucking code name is that? Evans’ eyes are narrowed, and she looks as though she’s about to say something harsh, but before she can open her mouth, James speaks up.

 

“We’re the lucky ones, Gid. Remus is an ace mate. Really knows his defense stuff as well. He’s bloody brilliant.” James’ tone is calm, with a warning edge that neither redheaded git seems to notice as they’re ushered into the meeting.

 

Sirius does not pay much attention to what Dumbledore is saying as the meeting commences. Something about sticking together, Voldemort’s main objectives, working as a team, and other such drivel. He is distracted, thinking about how many of the order members had seemed reluctant, or even downright nervous, to shake Remus’ hand prior to the start of the meeting. Sirius doesn’t see how this lot is going to be able to take down Voldemort if they’re too bloody scared to properly greet an angelic faced swot in a fucking cardigan.

 

After Dumbledore adjourns the meeting, Sirius stands up, taking Remus’ hand to pull him closer and wrap his arm around his shoulders. “C’mon, Moony, Prongs, Evans. Let’s get in line for the floo and get out of here.”

 

“Excuse me. Lupin?” Remus and Sirius turn to see a short, wiry man with sandy hair and brown eyes standing behind them. “I’m Caradoc Dearborn. Dumbledore asked me to grab you before you headed out. He wants a word.”

 

Remus smiles politely, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m happy to chat with Dumbledore if he …” Remus trails off, staring down at his own hand, which this Dearborn git has made no move to shake. Remus drops it to his side, letting his shoulders hunch up slightly. Sirius wants to punch this fucking prat in his stomach until he falls to the ground, but he maintains his cool as Remus looks over at him.

 

“You lot floo back, and I’ll be along shortly.” Remus squeezes Sirius’ hand as he turns and heads towards Dumbledore. Dearborn watches him go, then turns back to Sirius, snickering.

 

“Honestly, Black, I’ve heard about how you love to piss off your shite family, but wasn’t being a shirt-lifter enough of a blow? Did you have to swing all the way towards bestaility?”

 

Sirius holds his breath as his fists clench, letting out a growl as he steps menacingly towards this fucking prick who has some fucking nerve to come at Remus like that, the fucking-

 

“Oi, Padfoot. Sit boy. Dearborn, get the fuck out of here. I thought we were fighting against bigotry? What’s your fucking problem?” James is trying to stand in between Sirius and Dearborn, whilst holding back a furious looking Evans at the same time.

 

Dearborn raises his hands, smirking. “Just a joke, mates, just giving you a bit of a rough time, that’s all. If  _ that’s _ what you like, it’s none of my business. More power to you for bucking the system and all that. Doesn’t mean the rest of us want to be forced to see it, though, so be sure Lupin keeps his paws to himself.” He turns on his heel, walking away as James pulls Sirius and Evans through the floo.

 

No one says a word once they are back in Sirius and Remus’ flat. James and Evans sit on the couch, watching the telly, while Sirius prowls around the flat, pouring himself a firewhiskey and attempting to calm the fuck down before Remus arrives.

 

It is about forty five minutes later when Remus comes through the floo. Sirius pulls him against his chest for a hug, nuzzling his curls, tightening his arms around the shorter boy. Eventually Remus pushes Sirius away to sit down on the couch. Sirius notices how very drained Remus looks, pale as a sheet, eyes dull, lower lip chapped from being chewed on.

 

Sirius waits for Remus to say something, but he remains silent. After a few minutes, Sirius can take no more. “Well? What did Dumbledore want?”

 

Remus sighs shakily. “I’m going to start working for the order. Immediately.”

 

Sirius hears something shatter. He realizes he’s dropped his empty glass on the floor. Evans vanishes it with a silent wave of her wand. 

 

James clears his throat. “That’s brilliant, Moony. I’m sure you’ll do a boss job. Any details you can give us or is it top secret?”

 

Remus smiles warily. “Top secret, I’m afraid. I’m sure you can guess some of it, but the rest …” He sighs again. “I’m going to be away quite a bit, with limited owl access. I’ll make sure to keep you lot posted on when I’ll be gone as often as I can, but-”

 

“What the fuck, Moony?” Sirius has found his voice. His words are sharp and shaking. “It’s too early. We’re not supposed to be starting Order work until after graduation.”

 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I have graduated, Pads. I’ve got my NEWTs. My schooling is done. I’m of age. I’m able to begin right away.”

 

“No you aren’t. Moony, we’re supposed to be doing this together. The marauders are a fucking team. You can’t just go off on your own for the next few months, why can’t you wait until we’re able to join you-”

 

“You won’t be joining me, Padfoot, not now, and not after graduation. I’ll not be having any partners. This is- some things I need to do on my own, and this is one of them.”

 

“Being alone wasn’t part of the fucking plan, Moony. The plan wasn’t to let you go out on your own with no backup to do Merlin knows what with those fucking packs, not that I’d want you paired with any of those bigoted pricks we met tonight. Honestly Moony, those fucking gits acted as though-”

 

“They acted exactly the way I fucking told you they would, Sirius.” Remus’ voice is cold, quiet, slowly slicing through Sirius like a jagged piece of the glass he just broke. “I told you what to expect, and you refused to listen, as per usual. Why is so difficult for you to comprehend that not everyone thinks exactly the same way as you? That things are rarely as black and white as you’d like them to be? That sometimes you don’t need to retaliate against every presumed slight?”

 

Sirius is glowering. “Just because I don’t fucking like it doesn’t mean I can’t comprehend it, Remus, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to cause a scene. I’m not the daft, fly-off-the-handle bloke you lot think I am. I could’ve broken about five bloke’s noses at that fucking meeting tonight, but I kept my cool.”

 

Remus snorts derisively. “Oh, forgive me for not giving you enough praise. You managed to keep yourself from resorting to physical violence at a peaceful meeting in someone’s home. I’ll send away for your Order of Merlin immediately.”

 

James and Evans have quietly snuck over to the floo. Neither Sirius nor Remus acknowledges them as they leave. They are too busy glaring at each other, standing on opposite sides of the room, the small space between them feeling insurmountable.

 

Sirius is attempting to stabilize his breathing. He won’t allow himself to get worked up about this. Remus is upset enough, he reminds himself, and he’s tired. Sirius cannot allow himself to make Remus feel any bloody worse than he already does. He lets out a shaky breath before replying.

 

“I’m sorry, Moony. I don’t want you to be angry with me. I don’t want you to always have to be fucking worrying about me, worrying about whether I’m going to do or say something daft and fuck everything up again. But you’ve got to understand, I worry about you as well. I don’t- I know damn well that whatever Dumbledore’s got you doing, it isn’t safe, and I can’t- I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to be in danger.”

 

Remus sighs, lowering himself down to the couch, patting the seat next to him. Sirius walks over and sits beside him gingerly, keeping his hands folded as he hunches over and rests his elbows on his knees.

 

“Pads, you’ve got to understand, we’re all in danger. From now until Voldemort is defeated, we’ll all be in danger.”

 

Sirius scowls. “I know that, Moony, but I thought we’d be in danger together. I can handle it if we’re together, but I can’t handle you going off on your own while I sit at a fucking desk all day.”

 

“You’re going to have to handle it, Pads, because that’s what’s going to happen.” Remus turns towards him, grabbing one of his hands, squeezing it tightly as he uses his other hand to tilt Sirius’ face towards him, letting their eyes lock together.

 

“I’ll never lie to you, Padfoot. I solemnly swear as a marauder, I will never, ever lie to you, but there are going to be things that I’m simply not able to tell you, either for security reasons, or because I know they’ll upset you, and I can’t have that. We’ve got to trust in each other, we’ve got to trust in  _ us _ , in  _ this _ , but we’ve also got to accept that things are going to be different now. You’ve got to accept that you can’t always be there to protect me, not from Death Eaters, not from the packs, not from anything else. Not even from myself, Pads.”

 

“Er, about that, Moony … about your camping trip this month-”

 

“Enough, Pads. I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“But Moony-”

 

“I said  _ no _ , Sirius. I don’t want to talk about anything camping-related with you, alright? Nothing camping related, nothing Order related- don’t ask me about any of it.” Remus gets to his feet and heads slowly towards the bedroom. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”

 

Sirius jumps up to steady Remus as he walks towards the bedroom, but Remus shrugs him off. “I can take care of myself, Pads. You don’t have to fuss over me. You need to worry about yourself, because if anything happens to you, Pads,  _ that _ is what will hurt me the most. More than anything the Death Eaters could ever do to me.” Remus’ smile is pained as he enters the bedroom, heading towards the dresser to rummage for a pair of pyjamas.

 

Sirius can feel his stomach clenching. They were going to tell Remus about the animagi success tomorrow. They were going to be together for the full moon on Sunday. They were going to be able to take care of Remus all the time, to be there for him through every second of his transformation. Sirius gets the feeling that this might not be the best month to bring up the subject. He changes into his pyjamas, sliding into the bed next to Remus, curling onto his side as Remus wraps himself against Sirius’ back, pretending that everything is fine, that his eyes aren’t stinging with tears, that his lungs aren’t burning with fear, that his heart isn’t breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps I’ve portrayed the Order a bit harshly here, but I honestly don’t believe that everyone would be one hundred percent cool with Remus being a werewolf- even if they truly believed themselves to be open minded. There are racist feminists, there are transphobic LGBT activists- I don’t see how the Order could possibly be the only social justice movement ever to be made up solely of people who were 100% accepting in all areas. I would also think that Remus’ involvement in the first war ensured that the Order was more accepting of werewolves during the second war.
> 
> The final chapter should be posted on Saturday. Thank you so much for reading! I’d love it if you’d leave a comment or message me on Tumblr (@nachodiablo).


	10. March 1978

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and animagi.
> 
> I’m a day late posting this, but to make up for it, I’m posting two chapters! Plus, these chapters actually had a beta reader, the lovely Wereflamingo (@real-live-lycanthrope on Tumblr) so they are infinitely better and worth the wait, I hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for descriptions of the aftermath of violence, but nothing graphic.

 

_ Pads- Back at the flat, all is well. You can start sending me ridiculous notes and gifts once again. Although, I see the living room has already been overrun with some sort of red plastic vermin. I’m just going to go to bed and pray that I am hallucinating. I may not leave the bedroom until you get back here for spring hols. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Didn’t you see the yellow container on the kitchen table? It’s a barrel of monkeys! One of the muggle born first years brought it with them, it’s some sort of game. I swapped a bottle of butterbeer for it, then put time-delayed gemino and animation charms on the little monkeys. The counter-spell is on a piece of parchment taped to their barrel. Only two days until spring hols. I would say that I miss you like mad, you bloody git, but I know you hate it when I whinge about being apart. Instead, I will merely say that you’d better spend the next two days resting up, because you’re not going to be getting any rest at all while I’m snogging you senseless all next week. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- There very well may have been a parchment taped to the barrel at one point, but the monkeys have revolted, and it is no longer there. Did you learn nothing from the hungry-hungry hippo incident last month? I’m happy to snog you all through break, but you know I have to be away for that camping trip on the twenty fourth. The only reason I don’t like you whinging about missing me is because it reminds me of how much I miss you. You prat. -Moony _

 

**Moony- How was I to know that charming the hippos to run free from their game board would mean that they’d start nipping at toes rather than their marbles? That was an unforeseen event, Moony, and I should not be blamed. I stand by my original argument that Prongs was the one who bollocksed up that part of the charm. His head has been in the clouds ever since he and Evans got together. We’ve barely pranked at all since the new year, and he’s even started forcing me to study for NEWTs. Evans is a bad influence, Moony. We’ll have to re-corrupt him over hols. The counter spell to get all the monkeys back in the barrel is bananus repeelius. Let me know if it works. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- It worked, mostly. I’m still finding monkeys under the couch cushions, behind the shampoo, in the butter dish, et cetera. I’m going to be away tomorrow. Please, whatever a Stretch Armstrong is, don’t send it to me. I’ll not be in the mood to deal with whatever horrors it’s wrought upon the flat when I get back. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Prongs tipped you off, didn’t he. Very well, I’ll hold off for now. Another last minute trip? I know you can’t tell me the details, but I hope all goes well. What time tomorrow do you think you’ll be back? -Pads**

 

**Moony- I suppose you left yesterday, since I didn’t get a reply. Call me on the mirror the second you get back so that I know you’re safe. -Pads**

 

It is Thursday, the sixteenth of March, at seven in the evening, and Sirius is smoking a cigarette out the owlery window, mirror in hand, waiting for a response from Remus, something, anything to let him know Remus has made it home safely. He’s not  _ really _ worried, not yet. Remus rarely gives him precise notice as to when he’ll be gone, for fear his notes will be intercepted, despite all of the precautionary privacy charms they’ve been using. Remus always reaches out to the marauders as soon as he’s safely back in the flat, which is heavily warded thanks to Uncle Alphard’s justifiable paranoia. 

 

Sirius is concerned for Remus, of course he is, but whenever Remus calls him on the mirror after he returns from his missions, he seems to be in good spirits. A bit tired, perhaps, but no major wounds, nothing to make Sirius overly anxious. What does make Sirius anxious is how quiet Remus is becoming, how little he says nowadays. He had barely any comment when the Sex Pistols disbanded, he hasn’t wanted to go to any shows, he becomes listless when discussing potential pranks.

 

With James growing up this year, and Remus growing distant, Sirius feels more alone than he has in a long time. He sighs as he stubs out his cigarette, letting the butt fall out the window, disappearing into the mist. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Sirius turns around quickly, narrowing his eyes when he sees who’s standing in the doorway of the owlry. Regulus. His brother. His former brother, rather. They’ve never really been close, not even as children- Walburga had always made sure to hold up Sirius as the quintessential example of what not to do, and Regulus had always been quick to prove how much he wasn’t like his wayward older sibling. This is the first time Regulus has spoken to him at Hogwarts.

 

“I’m waiting for a hungarian horntail to swoop down and take me on a world tour. What does it fucking look like I’m doing?”

 

Regulus rolls his eyes. “I don’t mean what are you doing right at this very moment. I mean … what are you doing?”

 

Sirius presses his lips together irritatedly. He’s not in the mood for snakey mind games. “Either say what you mean or leave me the fuck alone.”

 

There is a curious look on Regulus’ face. A calculating look, his eyes narrowed as they peer intently at Sirius. “Mum found out about you and that boy. She went mental. Wanted to … do something to him, to teach you a lesson about respecting the Black family name, but we were … advised to leave him alone. Any idea why?”

 

Sirius is a bit taken aback, but he tries to maintain a neutral expression as he leans against the wall. “I’m sure I don’t know or care why you and your fellow Death Eaters do what you do.”

 

“Even if your boyfriend is one of them?” Regulus raises an eyebrow, but Sirius rolls his eyes, refusing to rise to the bait.

 

“You don’t know anything. Why would it matter to you in any case? Don’t want me to get my heart broken? It’s not as if you care.”

 

Regulus shrugs. “That’s true, I suppose. It just makes me wonder. Someone’s looking out for your bloke. Maybe it’s Rosier, I heard rumors that he’s a queer. Has the sense to be discreet about it, though, unlike you. Makes me wonder, are you also under their protection? I know Dumbledore’s recruiting for his army of fools. I’d assumed you’d be joining up with them, but … what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

 

Sirius sighs, pushing himself away from the wall. “Again, I don’t see why any of this affects you in any way.” He heads out the owlry door, pushing past Regulus roughly as he exits.

 

“Sirius-”

 

Sirius stops. He’s not heard his sibling say his name in years, can’t even remember the last time he’s heard his name from the voice of any Black other than himself. It’s enough to make him stop, but not enough to make him turn around.

 

“I … if there’s any chance you’ll make a different decision, I’ll … I’ll be … “

 

Sirius turns slowly, pushing his anger and confusion deep down into his stomach where it begins to knot furiously. He meets Regulus’ gaze evenly.

 

“The same goes for you.”

 

With that he turns and hurries from the room, through the hall, down the stairs, not realizing that he’s headed to the Hogsmeade tunnel until he’s already halfway through it. Eventually he finds himself in the basement of Honeydukes, breathing heavily. 

 

What the fuck is wrong with Regulus? After everything, would he really believe that Sirius would be involved with a bloody Death Eater, or considering becoming one himself? Sirius snorts as he thinks of how daft his family really is, before remembering the marauders’ conversation all those months ago in their kitchen, and again in the Leaky Cauldron, when Remus had been cornered by Evan Rosier. 

 

Sirius still isn’t sure of exactly what Remus’ missions entail, but it’s fairly obvious that it’s something to do with the packs, possibly something to do with playing both sides, attempting to infiltrate groups who have chosen to side with the Death Eaters. Sirius wonders if it’s not a good thing that Remus is with a Black, someone from a dark family, someone who could plausibly be convinced to come back to the other side. If Remus had been dating James, his missions might be more difficult. There’s no way people would believe a bloody Potter would dabble in the dark arts, or date someone who did.

 

Sirius’ thoughts are swirling around in his head, not making any sense. He checks the mirror in his robe pocket, but there’s still no word from Remus. Sirius is bloody tired of this. He’s not going to wait around any longer. With a pop, he’s apparating to the front of their building, walking up to their flat and letting himself inside to wait for Remus. Sirius smiles to himself as he walks through the door, readjusting the wards behind him and heading over to the couch to settle in and wait. Remus will be so happy to see him when he gets home, wrapping his arms tightly around him, kissing his collarbone in that way that sends shivers down Sirius’ spine.

 

He pauses when he hears a noise coming from the bathroom, immediately shifting into defensive mode, creeping down the hall, not making a sound. Peering through the open door, Sirius’ tense expression immediately relaxes into a smile. Remus is leaning over the sink, looking closely at his reflection in the mirror, checking it from all angles. As he starts to unbutton his shirt, which looks rather dirty, Sirius decides to make his presence known.

 

“Moony, you’re back! Did you miss me?” 

 

Remus turns around quickly, looking panicked. “Pads! You- you startled me! Merlin’s pants, Pads, give a bloke some warning before you scare the life out of him.” He’s quickly buttoning his shirt back up, looking a bit distracted as he flashes a jittery smile. “I just- I just need a few minutes, Pads, and I’ll be right out.” 

 

Remus goes to shut the door, but Sirius steps into the door frame, stopping him. “Moony, what’s that mark on your neck?” 

 

Remus’ hand shoots up to the collar of his shirt, turning back around to glance in the mirror. “Er, there’s nothing there, Pads, see?” He turns back to Sirius, still smiling that odd, nervous grin.

 

Sirius feels his expression darken. “It’s under your collar, Moony. I saw it when you had your shirt unbuttoned. Moony, how long have you been home? Why didn’t you let me know as soon as you got here? I’ve had the mirror on me the whole time, you know I like to know you’re safe.” Sirius is being calm, very calm, completely fucking calm, because that mark on Remus’ neck cannot be what it looks like.

 

Remus sighs, rubbing one of his eyes and wincing. “I’m sorry, Pads. I haven’t been home that long. I was going to call you on the mirror right now.”

 

Sirius narrows his eyes. Something isn’t right. Remus would never lie to him. He said he never would, he solemnly swore never to lie to him, but Sirius can tell that he’s not being entirely truthful. Why is Remus so uncomfortable, and why is he trying to hide that mark on his neck, the one that looks suspiciously like the marks Remus leaves on Sirius when he pins him against the wall-

 

_ Maybe it’s Rosier, I heard rumors that he’s a queer. Has the sense to be discreet about it, though, unlike you.  _

 

Regulus’ words snake their way into Sirius’ brain, coiling tightly around his fears, his doubts, his failings that he works so hard to keep locked away. It can’t be. Rosier is a bigoted fucking git. Besides, Remus wouldn’t, Sirius knows this, he  _ does _ , but he has to ask anyway, has to know if all the worst things he thinks about himself are true, that he’s not lovable, that he’s not worth anything, that he’s not enough, that he’ll never be enough.

 

“Moony … who were you with tonight?”

 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Pads, you know I can’t tell you. I’m glad you’re here, but let me just get myself sorted and we can-”

 

“Who gave you that mark, Remus?”

 

“What- the mark on my neck? It’s nothing, Pads, it’s barely anything, I’ll heal it up right now-”

 

“Ah. So that’s what you were doing, then? Healing up all your marks, before you called me, so I wouldn’t see? So I wouldn’t know- “ Sirius feels his stomach tightening, churning with anger and fear and pain, the worst pain he’s ever felt, at least since that night last April when he watched the shop burn.

 

Remus sighs, walking over to him, resting his hands on Sirius’ arms, which are clamped firmly to his sides. “Pads, it’s nothing to fuss over, I just didn’t want you to have to think about it-”

 

“Didn’t want me to think about it? Fuck, Remus- what exactly are we talking about here? How did you get that mark on your neck? Who gave it to you, and how does that possibly help the fucking Order?” Sirius can feel the blood rushing through his veins as his breathing speeds up painfully.

 

Remus stares up at him questioningly. “Pads, what are you …” His eyes widen as comprehension dawns across his face. “Oh … oh, I see. You think it’s-” He pushes Sirius away roughly, his werewolf strength causing Sirius to stumble backwards.

 

Remus eyes are bright, anger and hurt flickering across his face. “You think I was with someone else, is that right? You think I’m fucking some Death Eater for information? You think I’d betray you, betray  _ us _ , just like that?”

 

Sirius doesn’t think he can feel any worse, but the sneering in Remus’ voice is making him cringe. This cannot be his Remus. Sirius’ Remus is gentle, Sirius’ Remus is understanding, Sirius’ Remus does not hurt his Padfoot in this way.

 

“You’re right, Sirius, I  _ was _ with another bloke. Brilliant detective work. Well done. He  _ did _ leave that mark on me. Not just the one, either. Let me show you the rest, so you know exactly what I’m keeping from you.”

 

Remus unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. Sirius feels his vision blur. For a moment he thinks he’s losing consciousness, but soon realizes that it’s tears filling his eyes, making everything look foggy and distorted.

 

The mark is a fingerprint. A thumb print, to be exact. Sirius knows this because he can see the outline of a palm and four fingers next to it, where someone has grabbed Remus roughly, someone strong enough to bruise a werewolf, someone who has also left dark, painful looking bruises on Remus’ ribs and stomach. 

 

Sirius takes a shaky breath and steps closer to Remus, placing a trembling hand lightly over the mark. Remus turns away sharply, moving to grip the sink, knuckles white, shoulders shaking with anger. His back is covered in bruises as well, ugly swatches of black and blue and violet. 

 

Sirius feels the tears slipping from his eyes, running down his cheeks. He reaches a hand tentatively towards Remus’ shoulder. “Moony, I-”

 

“Don’t, Sirius.” Remus voice has a tremor running through it as he digs his fingers deeper into the marble sink. “This was supposed to be one of the things I didn’t tell you. I know how you get. It’s really not that bad. A few healing spells, and the werewolf stamina takes care of the rest. I wasn’t keeping anything from you. And I certainly wasn’t betraying your trust in any way. You colossal fucking-” Remus cuts off, turning around to glare at Sirius. “How could you think I would do that to you? Even for one second?”

 

Sirius shirks at the force of Remus’ stare. “I- I didn’t really think it, Moony, I just saw the mark, and … and I thought-”

 

“You thought what? Merlin’s bollocks, Pads, I could walk in on you naked with Puddlemere United’s entire starting lineup, and I’d still ask you for clarity before jumping to conclusions. I trust you implicitly, and I thought I’d earned the same from you, but apparently not.”

 

Sirius feels sick as his stomach continues to churn and twist. “Remus, I- you know it’s nothing to do with you, it’s about me, about how I’m not good enough for you, how I’m petrified that one day you’ll wise up and-”

 

“It’s always about you, isn’t it, Sirius? What about me? What about my fears, my triggers? In case you haven’t noticed, Sirius, no one trusts me. The Order thinks I’m headed over to Voldemort at any second, the Death Eaters think I’m going to go off with Dumbledore, the packs think I’m choosing wizards over them- I needed you to trust me, Sirius. I needed to know that no matter what, you and James and Lily trusted me, would never doubt me, would never look at me the way you just fucking looked at me. I can’t- I can’t-” 

 

Remus has backed up against the bathroom wall and is sliding down to the ground, tears filling his eyes as he winces in pain, wrapping his arms around his knees and pressing his forehead down on top of them. Sirius feels his blood turn to ice in his veins. He makes his way over to Remus, kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder. He tries to say something, anything that will counteract everything else that he’s said tonight. 

 

Before he can say a word, Remus is raising his head, meeting Sirius’ gaze steadily with his own. “Sirius, maybe we should consider taking a break. This isn’t working. I can move back in with my parents, and we’ll still be friends, but-”

 

“No. That’s not fucking happening.” Remus looks surprised as how forceful Sirius voice sounds. Sirius is a bit surprised as well, but he’s not letting Remus fucking do this, martyr himself for no bloody reason. 

 

“You’re right, Moony, this isn’t working, but it’s not working because you keep pushing me away. You don’t talk to me, you hide your injuries, you’re vague about your schedule- you didn’t even discuss it with me before you went ahead and agreed to start doing work for the Order. I understand your reasoning, Moony, but what  _ you’ve _ got to understand is that just because something seems to make sense logically doesn’t mean it’s a good bloody idea. You and Prongs are always lecturing me about acting too rashly, but Moony, you’re no better. You act just as rashly, but then you spin a web of excuses to justify your actions. You say you trust me, but you don’t, do you? You don’t trust me not to do something completely fucking daft, or else you’d tell me when you were leaving, and you’d tell me about your injuries.”

 

Remus sighs. “I know, Pads. It’s not that I don’t trust you not to be daft. You’ve calmed down quite a bit since we first met. Oh, you’ll still rant and rave a bit, but in the end, you did let me start doing the Order work, and you didn’t ask questions when I told you not to. But Pads, I see how upset you get, and it kills me. I hate hurting you like that.”

 

Sirius has pushed Remus’ knees apart so that he can kneel between them, casting healing charms on the worst of the bruises. “It does hurt, seeing you like this. But it hurts less than not knowing did. It hurts me when I know you’re holding back. I- I want us to be everything, the good and the bad, and sure, I’ll probably fuck up countless more times, but Moony, I want you to give me the  _ chance _ to actually fuck up rather than just assuming that I will.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, with tears still clinging to his cheeks. “You’re such a tosser, Pads. I just- fine. Have it your way. Fuck up if you must. I just- we’re both trying to protect each other, but we’re both doing a shite job, aren’t we?”

 

Sirius smiles softly, turning around so he can lean back against Remus’ chest, letting Remus’ arms wind around him tightly, sighing as Remus’ curls brush against his cheek. “Fucking up is new for you, Moony, but I’m an expert at it. I’ll show you how it’s done. We’ll do it together.”

 

The bathroom floor is cold, Remus’ breath is still a bit ragged in his ear, the dried tears are pricking at his skin, and he’s not sure if they’ve actually resolved anything properly, but Sirius feels lighter than he has in weeks.

 

**Moony- I still can’t believe the Roxy is shutting down as of today. It’s the end of an era. The Sex Pistols are dead, and yet the Bee Gees live on. Fate is cruel, Moony. If there is no Roxy and no Sex Pistols, how will punk rock be able to go on? Evans says she’s sending you some sort of bruise cream she’s been tweaking. Did you receive it yet? I’ll have to inspect you very closely this evening on the mirror to see how it’s working. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- As long as Sirius Black walks the streets of London, punk rock will indeed go on infinitely. Besides, change is good. Pink Flag by Wire was a boss record, and their album this summer will be even more brilliant, no doubt. There’s some interesting stuff coming out of America as well. I got my hands on a recording of this band who plays in the capitol there, Bad Brains. The sound quality is shite, but you can tell those blokes are bloody ace. Bruise cream came, and it’s pretty good, but I believe it would work better if you were here to rub it on for me. -Moony _

 

**Moony- What did I tell you last year? Pink Flag didn’t even hit the charts, so of course you thought it was brilliant. I’m not saying that you’re wrong, I’m just pointing out what a pretentious tosser you are. Bad Brains, eh? Like the Ramones’ song? I like them already. Prongs and I will be at the flat on Friday, and you can play it for us. I wish I was there to help you, Moony, and I will be in only a few more weeks once these bloody NEWTs are done with. I know we’ll both be busy with Order things, and you’re still slaving away over that swotty editing work, but let’s take a week off and do something fun before everything goes to shite. Maybe the seaside? I’d look ace with a tan. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I don’t know if the world is ready for you with a tan. You’d be too bloody gorgeous for your own good. I, on the other hand, will blister unattractively into a pink lobster. Although I’m thinking that the chance to ogle you in a pair of swimming trunks will be worth the risk of sun damage. We’ll talk about it this weekend. -Moony _

 

**Moony- Don’t bring it up this weekend or else we’ll have Prongs tagging along with us, and I’m not sharing a bed with the two of you ever again. Don’t you remember that horrendous overnight in Edinburgh? I don’t know which one of you gave me the black eye, or how I ended up on the floor with you spooning Prongs, but I’ll not be repeating that night again. Perhaps if Evans comes along to baby-sit, and we get separate rooms, we could make it a group thing. We’ll talk more this weekend. I miss you, you git. -Pads**

 

It is Monday, the first of May, at eight in the evening, and Sirius is sitting with Evans and Prongs by the black lake, watching the sun go down. Sirius is flipping his mirror around in his hands. Remus should be calling any minute, back from a last minute meeting that he was feeling a bit nervous about.

 

Remus has been more forthcoming lately, though he will not discuss the exact details of what he is doing or who he is meeting with. Sirius knows that soon enough, they will all be keeping such secrets from each other as they get more involved in the war. Remus has pointed out to him that it’s not about trust; it’s about security. None of the marauders would give up the others willingly, but the Death Eaters are not so concerned with the  _ willingly _ part. Sirius shudders when he thinks about how awful he would feel if he were to be tortured or imperiused into giving up information about Remus. Better that he has nothing to give them in the first place.

 

Sirius has gotten quite good at maintaining his calm when he sees the painful bruises and deep gauges that Remus comes home with. He smiles gently through the mirror each night, telling Remus that he can’t wait to be home with him, that he thinks the new bruise cream is working quite well, that the new scar on Remus’ chest is actually quite dashing. After they end their calls, James takes Sirius up to the astronomy tower, and they duel violently for an hour or so, enough to tire Sirius out so he can drift into a fitful sleep. 

 

“Still nothing?” Evans has an eyebrow raised as she leans over to look at Sirius. She’s leaning against James, with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. 

 

Sirius shrugs. “Not yet. He wasn’t sure of how long the meeting would take, but he figured if he wasn’t back by ten, then we should worry.”

 

Evans rolls her eyes. “You two worry about Remus when he heads to the curry shop down the road from your flat. Couple of mother hens.”

 

“And just what’s wrong with that?” James looks indignant, even as he grins down at Evans indulgently. “Marauders look out for each other, Lily. One of the many perks of our exclusive brotherhood.”

 

“Don’t act like you don’t fuss either, Evans. How many different types of healing salves have you mucked around with for him? Lucky that Slughorn loves you and lets you into his private stores.” Sirius is smirking as Evans wrinkles her nose at him.

 

James opens his mouth, probably to say something daft, but before he can get a word out, a swirl of silver darts over to the three of them. Remus’ wolf patronus materializes, flickering in and out of its corporeal form.

 

“Come. Help. Flat.” The wolf dissolves as soon as Remus’ words have been uttered.

 

Sirius is running across the grounds towards the main entrance. He doesn’t have to look to know that Evans and James are right behind him. Sirius does not fucking care who sees him as he bursts out the entrance and apparates away to his and Remus’ building, barging through the front doors and running up the stairs to their flat, not sparing the time to wait around for the ancient lifts.

 

He bursts through the door, and a scream dies in his throat. There is blood everywhere, a streaky trail dragging from the fireplace towards the hall. Sirius turns quickly down the hall and feels himself go pale at the sight in front of him.

 

Remus is lying on the floor, not moving, clothes torn to shreds, covered in so much blood that Sirius can’t tell where his actual wounds are. His wand is clutched loosely in his hand. Sirius throws himself down next to Remus, shaking his shoulder, checking for a pulse. “Moony? Moony, can you hear me? Fucking hell, Moony-” Sirius is not panicking, he is definitely not panicking, but it’s taking all of his fucking focus not to.

 

Remus stirs slightly, opening one swollen eye. “Pads? You’re here?” He tries to smile, but starts coughing up a fountain of blood.

 

Sirius feels himself being pulled back. He struggles for a moment before he realizes that it’s Evans, gripping his shoulders tightly with shaking fingers as James quickly rolls Remus over and does some sort of diagnostic spells.

 

“He’s fine, he’s just- we’ve got to get him to St. Mungo’s, now. Lily, make sure Pads gets through in one piece, I’ve got Moony.” James has his arm around Remus, all but carrying the thinner boy to the floo and stepping through. After a few moments of steadying his breathing, Sirius and Evans follow through the floo. Sirius is in a daze, stumbling into the foyer of St. Mungo’s and blinking around in confusion.

 

James has placed Remus in a chair, his head lolling back. James is arguing furiously with the registration witch.

 

“I don’t fucking  _ care _ about your bigoted protocol! I’ll pay for a whole bloody private wing if that’s what it takes, but you’re not sticking him in that disgusting waiting room for three hours. He will see a healer right this second, unless you want to be dealing with the combined fucking wrath of the Potter family and Albus Dumbledore raining down on you, you bloody-”

 

“Alright, Mr. Potter, calm down please. We do have a healer on staff who is trained in working with- er, his kind, and she’ll be free in just a moment. We’ll move him to a private room right away, just sign these papers accepting all responsibility for the- er, patient and his bills.”

 

“He has a name. His name’s Remus Lupin, and he’s a fucking person.” James is glowering as he begins to fill out the forms. “Lily, Pads, you go in with him and make sure Remus is treated properly. I’ll be along once I finish this paperwork.”

 

Sirius follows as the healers move Remus to a private room, settling him into a bed and leaving as quickly as possible. He scowls as the leave, pulling up a chair so he can sit beside Remus, running a hand lightly through those blood-soaked curls. Evans sits gingerly on the foot of the bed, resting a hand lightly on Remus’ ankle.

 

“Moony? Can you hear me?” Sirius’ voice is shaking as he focuses on not falling completely to fucking pieces.

 

Remus opens his eyes slightly, looking over at him. He smiles weakly before wincing in pain. “Pads. Knew you’d come. So sorry, Pads.” He closes his eyes again briefly before they fly open again. “Where’s my wand, Pads? I need to- I need-”

 

“Shhhh. You don’t need to do anything. Whatever it is can wait.” Sirius’ voice is calmer now, more soothing, even though his stomach is in angry knots.

 

Remus is shaking his head roughly. “No, can’t wait, Pads. Need to give it- give me my wand-” Remus is struggling to sit up now, causing Evans to jump up and push him gently back against the pillows.

 

“What do you need, Remus? You can’t leave this bed. Whatever it is, we’ll do it for you, just tell us what you need.” 

 

Remus nods slowly. “Need a vial. And wand. For a memory. Has to get to Dumbledore. Immediately.”

 

Evans purses her lips before conjuring up an empty vial and handing it to Remus along with her own wand. Remus takes a slow, shallow breath before raising the wand to his head, pulling a silvery strand from his head and dropping it into the vial.

 

Evans moves to take the vial, but Sirius grabs it first. “I’ll take this to Dumbledore, Moony. Best that I’m not here at the same time as that fucking prat of a healer, or else we’ll all be banned from the ward. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?” Sirius bends down to press his lips lightly to Remus’ forehead, smiling as Remus sighs in contentment, closing his eyes and relaxing into the pillows.

 

Sirius walks quickly out of the room, down the hall and through the floo to the Three Broomsticks, paying no mind to Miss Rosmerta’s surprised greeting as he strides out the door into the dark night towards Hogwarts’ entrance gate. Sirius had not wanted to leave Remus’ side, not for one second, but he had to. He has to know. Sirius feels oddly calm as he sees McGonagall at the gate, waiting for him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together into a thin line.

 

“Mr. Black. The headmaster advised me that you’d be here. Where are Mr. Potter and Miss Evans?”

 

“They’ll be back later. And I’m not staying. I’m just here to see Professor Dumbledore, then I’ll be headed back to St. Mungo’s.”

 

McGonagall’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “We’ll discuss this later, Mr. Black. For now, come with me to the headmaster’s office.”

 

They walk silently up the path, through the castle doors, up the back staircase, and down the hall to Dumbledore’s office. McGonagall whispers the password low enough for Sirius not to hear, and the door swings open. Sirius strides inside, sitting down on one of the cushy chairs arranged by the desk, ignoring the curious looks from an odd looking bird perched in the corner.

 

McGonagall purses her lips. “Professor Dumbledore had to leave the castle briefly, but he assures me that he’ll be back within the hour.”

 

Sirius nods, smiling politely. “I’ll wait here, professor. There’s no need to hover.”

 

McGonagall narrows her eyes before nodding sharply, turning on her heel and exiting the room. As soon as the door shuts behind her, Sirius is up on his feet, opening cabinets and rummaging through various oddities before he finds what he’s looking for. A pensieve. 

 

Sirius places the pensieve on Dumbledore’s desk, opening the vial and letting the silvery strand flow into the swirling mist. Taking a deep breath, he leans over and sticks his face into the basin.

 

_ Remus is standing in a run down cottage, staring intently at the fireplace. To his left is that fucking green eyed creeper who was harassing Remus when they first got together. Neither of them is speaking. Eventually, the flames in the fireplace flare up green, and a man comes through the floo. _

 

_ The man is older, muscular in a beastly way, with yellow teeth and dark eyes that rake over Remus in a calculating manner. He is clearly some sort of werewolf, and although it is not the full moon, the man has held onto more of his wolfish features and mannerisms than Remus and the green eyed prat.  “So, you’re Dumbledore’s young pup, eh? I remember you.” _

 

_ “I don’t remember you.” Remus’ voice is as smooth and cold as a frozen pond. _

 

_ The beastly man chuckles, a low snarl rumbling in his chest. “You don’t remember my face, but you remember me, pup.” _

 

_ “Is that why you came tonight? To catch up on old times?”  _

 

_ The beastly man lets out a barking laugh at Remus’ impudence. “No, that’s not why I came. I like you, pup. Spunky. Now then, let’s get down to business. Your proposition. I’ve thought it over, and I don’t think it’s wise for me to trust you.” _

 

_ “It’s not.” Remus turns one corner of his mouth up into a half-smile. “It’s not wise to trust anyone nowadays. That doesn’t mean my proposition isn’t beneficial.” _

 

_ The beastly man smiles, but it looks more like a grimace on his animalistic face. He reaches a hand up to scratch at his neck with long, jagged nails. “You’re not wrong, pup. Let’s not waste time. I accept. Let’s shake on it.” The beastly man holds out his hand. Remus, not breaking eye contact, grips it firmly, giving it a quick shake before pulling away. _

 

_ “Oh, one more thing, pup. I know you’ve got some pureblood bitch back home, but if you’re going to be working with Dom, here, well. He’s a lot easier to deal with when he’s in a good mood. I suggest you keep him in a good mood if you want to get anything done.” The beastly man is eyeing Remus with a smirk.  _

 

_ Remus narrows his eyes. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll deal with him being difficult.” _

 

_ The beastly man laughs heartily. “Oh, come on now, don’t get all high and mighty. You think you’re better than us, but you’re not. Certainly you’re no better than me. I’m a wizard too, pup. Been one for a lot longer than you. A little advice for you- if you want things to go smoothly, than you’ll take my suggestions seriously.” _

 

_ Remus is silent for a moment before nodding. “I’ll take it under advisement.” _

 

_ The beastly man stares at Remus intently. “No, I don’t believe you will. Doesn’t matter how polite you say it, pup, disobedience is still disobedience.”  _

 

_ He reaches out lightning fast to grab Remus’ arm, pulling him close, close enough that their noses are touching. “You need to be taken down a peg, pup. Give you a little reminder of what you are. Give everyone a little reminder.” _

 

_ The beastly man doesn’t waste any time as he slashes at Remus with those long nails, snarling and snapping as he mauls Remus with those claw-like hands, those sharp teeth, those strong arms. It takes only five minutes or so before Remus is lying in a bloodied heap on the floor, attempting to stifle his moans. The green eyed creeper stares down at him emotionlessly, not having moved or said a word since the beastly man arrived. _

 

_ “There you are, pup. Not so human anymore. Those wounds will scar nicely. Let everyone know what you are. See if that pureblood bitch wants to parade you around now, eh?” The beastly man laughs as he gives Remus a final kick in the ribs. “No hard feelings, pup. Our deals’ still on. Dom will be reaching out to you with next steps. Dom, get this pup back through the floo so he can bleed on his own floor.” With that, the beastly man is through the floo, and the memory swirls out of focus. _

 

Sirius pulls his head from the pensieve, gasping for air. He steadies his breath as he uses his wand to shakily pull the memory out of the pensieve, placing it back into the vial, moving the pensieve back where he found it. Sitting back down, he grips the arms of the chair tightly as he focuses on remaining calm, on sticking to his plan, on not setting Dumbledore’s fucking office on fire.

 

Ten minutes later, the door swings open and Dumbledore enters the office. “Hello, Mr. Black. I apologize for the delay. I had some matters to attend to, and did not realize that you’d be stopping by. I understand that you have something for me? I was under the impression that Mr. Lupin would be owling me with the information, but it seems that there have been … complications?”

 

Sirius keeps his face blank, devoid of all emotion. “There were some complications, yes. Before I give you Remus’ memory, I’d like to show you one of my own.”

 

Dumbledore is looking at him curiously, but says nothing as he pulls the pensieve from the cabinet and sets it on his desk. Sirius walks over, lifting his wand to his head and pulling out two silver threads. He sits back down and waits expectantly as Dumbledore leans down into the pensieve, watching his shoulders cringe as he sees Remus covered in blood, Sirius falling to his knees, James pressing his hands to Remus’ pulse frantically.

 

When Dumbledore raises his head, there is sorrow written plainly across his face. “Mr. Black … Sirius. I’m so sorry you had to see him like that. This is not how I expected the evening to end.”

 

Sirius calmly hands over the vial. “Here’s Remus’ memory from this evening. I’ll wait while you look at it.”

 

Dumbledore gives Sirius a calculating look before accepting the vial and adding it to the pensieve. Sirius sits patiently, waiting for the old man to finish viewing the confrontation with the beastly man, keeping his expression neutral, keeping his breathing steady, keeping his hands resting gently on the arms of the chairs. 

 

Dumbledore sighs, sitting down at his desk, looking quite tired. “I assume you know what I saw. It appears that Remus was successful. Still, that was … not how I expected it to go.”

 

Sirius nods sharply. “We all make miscalculations, sir. With that said, as far as Remus goes, you can consider him unavailable for any more of these particular missions.”

 

Dumbledore looks at Sirius curiously. “Sirius, I understand that you’re upset, and rightly so, but this is a delicate situation, and we simply cannot-”

 

“I don’t fucking care how delicate the situation is.” Sirius has remained calm for bloody long enough. He’s not going to sit here and let this fucking old man send Remus to his death. “I’m not having Remus go back to deal with- with those animals. What if that bloke tries to force him- it’s not happening. He has so much more to give in this war, and you’re using him as cannon fodder.”

 

Dumbledore sighs. “Sirius, I understand your concern, but I will remind you that it’s not your place to dictate Order missions. That being said-”

 

“So you’re just going to send him back out there? You know he’ll do whatever you ask him to, he’s too bloody noble not to. But this time, sir, you’ll have to order him to do it over my dead, rotting corpse. You can’t expect me to just sit here- is it because we’re blokes? Don’t tell me you’d expect James to be alright with sending Evans out to work with perverted monsters like that.”

 

Dumbledore appears taken aback. “Sirius, I assure you that I, of all people, have no issue with your relationship.”

 

Sirius is bloody fuming now. “Then it’s because he’s a werewolf? You think that’s all he’s good for, being battered around by- Remus is brilliant, he’s an expert duelist, he’s a bloody ace strategist, he could be doing far more valuable things for the Order. But no, all you see is a werewolf, an animal for you to-”

 

“Sirius.” Dumbledore’s voice is sharp now, startling Sirius into silence. 

 

“I do not see Remus as anything less than the brilliant young man that he is. What I was going to say, before you became so, er, lively in your discourse, is that although Remus was successful, I fear we will have to rethink the mission. We knew Greyback was not to be wholly trusted, however I had hoped … regardless, I see no good coming from this arrangement. Greyback cannot be trusted to follow our agreement, I can see that. He is toying with us. This does put us in a precarious situation, one that I will need to think on for a bit. I can assure you, until I have come up with a better course of action, Remus will not be sent out on any missions with Greyback’s packs.”

 

Sirius blinks. “You … you agree with me?”

 

Dumbledore smiles brightly. “A shocking turn of events, I’m sure. I am not above making mistakes or miscalculations. All Order members are at risk in this war, but I’ll not knowingly put anyone into a needlessly dangerous situation. As you said, Remus is an intelligent young man. Perhaps he can come up with a better course of action. I will discuss it with him once he is feeling better.”

 

Sirius squirms a bit in his chair. “Er … sir … what if I told you that James, Evans and I might be of some assistance with werewolf outreach? We’ve- we’ve acquired some skills that may prove to be useful.”

 

Dumbledore raises an eyebrow. “I’d be most interested in hearing more, of course. In the strictest of confidence, I assure you.” There’s a gleam in his eye that makes Sirius grin mischievously. He knows the old nutter is going to be fucking delighted when Sirius transforms into his animagus form and scares the bloody hell out of that daft bird.

 

It is nearing midnight when Sirius arrives back at St. Mungo’s. Remus is awake, sitting up in bed, talking quietly with James. Evans is sprawled over his legs, asleep.

 

“Alright there, Pads?” James jumps up to give Sirius a hug before gesturing for him to take his seat beside Remus. Sirius bypasses the chair, sitting on the edge of the bed instead so he can run his fingers through Remus’ curls, angling his face to see what sort of damage has been done.

 

Remus now has two angry red gashes running across his face, one across his left eye and one across his nose, smelling of ointment. His arms are bandaged, as well as the left side of his neck, but despite his injuries, he appears to be in good spirits, smiling brilliantly when Sirius leans in for a gentle kiss.

 

“Dumbledore’s got the memory. He sends his best. How’re you feeling, Moony? The healers treat you alright?”

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “With Prongs and Lily watching over me? I was treated better than the Minister of Magic himself.”

 

James is grinning. “I don’t know how my Tiger-Lily manages to be so charming and ferocious at the same time, but Merlin’s balls, it’s a fucking turn-on. The healer wasn’t a bad sort, either, she’s used to working with werewolves, and she did some bloody brilliant work cleaning up those cuts on Moony’s face. You look like an outlaw now, Moony, all rugged and dangerous. Pads, how does it feel to no longer be the sexiest one in the relationship?”

 

Sirius scoffs. “You’d know how it feels, I assume.”

 

James punches him on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll let you two catch up, I’ve bored Moony enough. Let me just wake up Lily. We’re spending the night at Mum and Dad’s, then we’ll be back here in the morning. I’ve owled McGonagall to let her know the three of us won’t be back at Hogwarts until tomorrow afternoon. Doubt we’ll get any shite for it, family emergency and all that.”

 

After rousing Evans from her slumber and saying their goodbyes, Remus and Sirius are left alone at last. Remus moves over, making space for Sirius to climb in and lie next to him, face to face. They don’t speak for some time as they press their foreheads together, interlacing their fingers and enjoying the silence.

 

“I saw the memory.”

 

Remus smirks. “I know you did, Pads.”

 

Sirius pretends to be offended. “Why Moony, are you saying that you assumed I’d snoop?”

 

Remus gently places a kiss on the tip of Sirius’ nose. “I hoped you would.”

 

Sirius feels his stomach tighten. “Moony … I don’t … you won’t have to worry, about any of that. We’ll work something out. I know you’re going to be a noble git and say you’ll keep at whatever you’re doing, but you won’t have to. Dumbledore says he’s going to talk to you, work out a different strategy.”

 

Remus sighs. “Good. I’m not being noble, Sirius, I’m just doing what needs to be done to win this war but … I don’t think I could go through with that. I couldn’t- do that, not to you, and not to myself.”

 

Sirius lets his hand drift along the curve of Remus’ cheekbone. “Thank you, Moony. For sending the patronus tonight. For trusting us to help you.”

 

Remus turns his head to kiss Sirius’ palm. “You’re right, you know. We’re the marauders, and we’ve got to stick together. I’m not doing the Order any favors by isolating myself. It’s been easier, these past few weeks, letting you in, and Prongs, and Lily.” 

 

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I don’t know what Dumbledore wants to do with me now. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.”

 

Sirius wraps his arm around Remus, pulling him close. “Let’s not worry about that right now, Moony. Let’s get you some rest, eh? We can worry about all that shite tomorrow.”

 

Remus opens his eyes, smiling that brilliant smile, the one that’s been able to melt Sirius’ heart since the first time he saw it. “You’re brilliant, Pads. I’m lucky to have you.”

 

Sirius is beaming back at him, twirling a lock of hair through his fingers. “We’re both lucky, Moony. I wish … fuck, Moony. I want to be with you, all the time, in every way.”

 

Remus knits his eyebrows together. “Pads, we live together, we spend every second of every day owling or talking on the mirror, we’re constantly touching when we’re together in person. What more is there?”

 

Sirius bites his lower lip nervously. “You  _ know _ , Moony. I want … I want us to be a couple. Like a married couple.”

 

Remus looks surprised. “Pads, what are you saying?”

 

Sirius is scowling. “I am fucking proposing, Moony, you bloody prat. We’re proper adults now and I don’t want us to just be bloody boyfriends. I want everything, forever.”

 

Remus is giggling now. “Pads, we’re two blokes. I don’t think we’re allowed to be married. Besides, we already have everything, forever.”

 

Sirius flicks the tip of Remus’ nose sharply with his fingers. “Then we’ll do whatever it is two blokes do. Sign some paperwork to be partners, next of kin, or whatever. Fix it so my shite family can’t kick you out of the flat if I bite it. Start adopting a bunch of dogs, collecting an assortment of odd teacups, planting an herb garden, I don’t know all the details, Moony, I’ve never fucking done this before, but-”

 

Remus silences him with a kiss, slow and sweet, wrapping his arm around Sirius to pull him even closer. “Fine, you tosser. We’ll talk to a barrister about our legal options, and we’ll have mum and Mrs. Potter host a dinner or something to commemorate the occasion. Rings might be nice, too. Although dog tags would be more appropriate.”

 

“Or collars. Preferably a spiked one for me.” Sirius is smirking as Remus rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re such a prat, Pads. But I suppose I’ll keep you.”

 

Sirius grins as he kisses the tip of Remus’ nose. “Stuff it, Moony. Now get some rest, and let’s enjoy the peace and quiet before we have to tell Prongs and Evans. It won’t surprise me if Prongs ends up trying to coax us into some black tie affair with a symphony orchestra and a troupe of acrobatic house elves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure how important the institution of marriage would be for the pups, but Sirius would definitely be concerned with making sure Remus was taken care of if anything happened to him. Plus, I doubt Remus would ever turn down an occasion for cake.


	11. May 1978

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finales and futures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW for this one, it’s pure fluff.

******Moony- I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better. I know you’ve been telling me you feel fine for the past two weeks, but Hope has been keeping me informed of your actual progress, and she has informed me that as of today, you are all healed up. I’ll be by this Friday evening to see you. Hope’s promised to run some errands so we have some privacy, and I’m fairly sure Lyall’s been actively avoiding my visits ever since he walked in on us last weekend. To be fair, however, it was his own fault for walking out onto the veranda at eleven in the morning without warning. Honestly, what was he expecting? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- I’m sure that whatever dad was expecting, it did not involve his son pantsless. It might have been slightly less awkward if you hadn’t knocked over my chair in your haste to get to your feet. Mum still laughs every time she thinks about it, which is approximately six times per day. You’re helping me move back to the flat this Friday. I’m ready to go home. -Moony _

 

**Moony- We’ll move you back in, but first we’ll have to go to London and meet with the barrister that dad set us up with. We can review the paperwork, go over next steps, and then come home and shag on every surface in the flat. Have Hope and mum confirmed the date for the celebration dinner? -Pads**

 

_ Pads- Yes, I believe it will be the Friday after graduation. We’re keeping it immediate family only, thank Merlin. What is it about Potters that make them go over the top with everything? It took mum the better part of an hour to convince Mrs. Potter that we didn’t need thirteen courses at dinner. I blame you for roping me into this. We should have just eloped. -Moony _

 

**Moony- If we had eloped, our union would have been sweet but short, as mum would have murdered us when we returned. Be grateful that it’s only a dinner and not a full-blown ceremony like Prongs wanted. He won’t rest until he’s wrestled one of us into a white dress. I’m already plotting ideas for revenge when he finally tricks Evans into marrying his sorry arse. -Pads**

 

_ Pads- If anyone’s wearing a dress, it will be you. You’re bloody gorgeous enough to pull it off. I’m off missions until you lot graduate, by the way. Dumbledore is working out some sort of strategy. I don’t have many details, but we can talk on Friday. I’ve also received word that the defense books I’ve been editing will be published this summer, in time for next year’s classes. -Moony _

 

**Moony- I’m bloody gorgeous enough to pull off any outfit. We’re buying the whole set of books this summer, and you’ll have to sign each copy. Don’t worry about the missions, I’m sure Dumbledore will work something out. See you on Friday. Prepare to be ravished, you prat. -Pads**

 

It is Wednesday, the thirty first of May, at four in the afternoon, and Sirius is grinning widely, one arm around James and one arm around Remus, waiting for Hope to snap a photo.

 

“Stand still, Sirius! This is a muggle camera, you can’t wiggle around or else you’ll just be a terribly handsome blur.” Hope raises the camera and clicks it decisively. “There we go, now you’re free to run around. Sirius, come here, you’re tie is all crooked. I’d say we have to retake the picture, but I’ll never get you three to stand still for a second time.”

 

Sirius bounds over to let Hope adjust his tie. “Thanks, Hope. I’ll stand still for as many seconds as you need.” He winks merrily at her.

 

Hope rolls her eyes. “Call me mum, Sirius. You’re family now.” She pulls him in for a hug before pinching his ear sharply.

 

Sirius feels his cheeks turning pink as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, mum.” Sirius’ voice is a whisper as Hope smiles at him, fussing with his hair and adjusting his graduation cap.

 

“Alright, now I need a photo of Remus and Lily, then one of the three graduates, then a group photo with all four of you. Effie, let’s use your camera so the boys can wriggle to their hearts’ content.”

 

Hope, Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Evans begin shuffling their multiple cameras back and forth. Evans joins them, showing her mum how Mrs. Potter’s wizarding camera works. James, Remus and Sirius walk over to the bench by the edge of the lake, sitting down and staring out at the crowd of fresh Hogwarts graduates.

 

“I can’t believe we fucking made it this far without getting expelled.” James snatches Sirius’ cap off his head and tosses it to Remus, who begins swinging it by the tassel.

 

“I can’t believe we fucking made it this far without me hexing your bollocks off.” Sirius attempts to grab his cap, but Remus quickly flings it back to James.

 

“I can’t believe Lily hasn’t hexed all of our bollocks off.” Remus is smirking as he grabs Sirius’ wrists to stop him from pushing James off the bench.

 

James sighs, grinning madly at Evans, who’s still dealing with the camera situation. “I’m mental over that woman. I’m … er, that is … I think I’m going to propose this summer. I’ve got to come up with a plan, something fucking romantic. Maybe at the seaside when we go on our trip? Do .. do you think she’ll say yes?”

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “Are you doubting your destiny, Prongs? Thinking you should wait another seven years, just to be sure? Of course she’ll say yes, you tosser.”

 

Sirius sighs dramatically. “And of course you have to steal our thunder. Merlin’s bollocks, Prongs, you just couldn’t stand to be left out, could you?”

 

James tosses Sirius’ cap into his face. “Fuck off, Pads. You should be pleased that I’ve been influenced by your sickeningly adorable puppy love.” He gets up from the bench and wanders over towards Evans and the mums.

 

Sirius feels Remus lean his head against his shoulder. Sirius turns slightly, raising his left hand and pulling it into a fist. Remus in turn raises his own left fist, bumping it against Sirius’ so that the rings they are wearing clink together.

 

Sirius is wearing a platinum ring engraved with the Lupin crest. Remus is sporting a gold ring with the Potter familial words winding around the inside. Lyall and Mr. Potter had presented them with the rings the weekend that they had signed the paperwork to become partners. Sirius’ ring originally belonged to Lyall’s father, while Remus’ ring once adorned the finger of Mr. Potter’s elder brother.

 

Sirius laces their fingers together. “It’s time, Moony. Time to move on to the next chapter.”

 

Remus smiles, nestling his head against Sirius’ neck. “I’m ready, Pads. We’re ready.”

 

“Oi, tossers, come on. The parents are headed to Tamarind for dinner, but I told them we needed a moment.” James and Evans are walking over towards Sirius and Remus, hand in hand.

 

Remus scrunches up his face in confusion. “Er, why do we need a moment? I’m a bit peckish, actually, so I’m fine with heading straight to dinner.”

 

Sirius raises his gaze to meet James and Evans, smirking. “C’mon, Moony, there’s something we need to show you in the forbidden forest.”

 

Remus looks a bit wary, but he follows along gamely as they lead him deeper and deeper into the forest, until they come to a clearing. 

 

“Alright now, Moony, don’t get all shirty. Just stand there and look pretty.” James is smirking at Remus’ bewildered expression.

 

“On the count of three, then?” Evans looks at James and Sirius sharply. “Alright then. One … two … three!”

 

Sirius closes his eyes and concentrates intensely as he shifts into his animagus form. Once he has shifted completely, he looks up at Remus, wagging his tail.

 

Remus’ eyes are wide as he stares at the majestic buck, the graceful doe, and the playful dog who are all looking at him expectantly. He raises a hand to cover his mouth, shaking a bit. Sirius bounds over to his mate, giving his other hand a lick and nuzzling his side.

 

Remus is laughing a bit madly. “What- how- I don’t understand what’s happening?”

 

The group changes back quickly. Sirius wraps his arms around Remus, kissing the tip of his nose.

 

“Moony, we’re going to be able to be with you during your transformations.”

 

Remus balks slightly. “But this … you can’t have done this through the proper channels, you’ll all go to Azkaban, Merlin’s bollocks-”

 

“Er, about that.” Evans clears her throat nervously. “Professor McGonagall and I may have embellished some paperwork and records that we then filed with the ministry, so … we’re ace.”

 

Sirius and James exchange shocked glances. Neither of them were aware of this development. Sirius is grateful for a moment that Evans is such a swot, dealing with all that bloody paperwork and sweet talking McGonagall.

 

“Merlin’s bollocks, what- why would you even attempt this? I’m not- this isn’t- Pads, Prongs, Lily, I can’t-” Remus seems to be unsure of what to say, which is rare.

 

“You’re worth it, mate. Plus, now we’ll be able to help you on your missions with the packs.” James is grinning as he throws his arm around Remus and Sirius’ shoulders.

 

Remus is blinking rapidly. “What do you mean?”

 

Evans sighs as she approaches the group, wrapping her own arms around the trio of marauders. “Well, we can run with the packs now, can’t we? So you won’t be alone. Dumbledore is working out a plan, but whatever plan he comes up with, we’ll be together.”

 

Remus’ eyes are filling with tears that cling to his lashes. Sirius presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve done enough on your own, Moony. We’re stronger as a team. We’ll target the packs that Voldemort hasn’t been able to reach yet, and we’ll come to them as wizards. As equals.”

 

Remus rubs his face on Sirius’ shoulder, wiping the tears onto his shirt. “You tossers. I should have known. Marauders always find a way to nose their way into each others’ business.”

 

“I suppose this means you’re a marauder now, Evans.” Sirius is smirking. “You’ll need a nickname. I’m sure Prongs has plenty of quality ideas.”

 

Evans groans as James perks up cheerfully.

 

“Speckles. Fawn. Velvet. Roe. Cervidae. Faline. Ivory. Cottontail.”

 

Evans snorts derisively. “Cottontail is the name of a rabbit, you git.”

 

“Which rabbit? How are you on first name terms with a bloody rabbit?” James looks affronted at Evans’ criticism.

 

“I think I should be able to choose my own nickname, Potter.”

 

“Why? I chose all the other marauder names. And stop calling me Potter.”

 

“Why should I? You like it when I get authoritative.” Evans sneaks her hand down to James’ arse, making him blush furiously as they head out of the forest with Sirius and Remus trailing behind them, walking slowly so they can stop and snog every so often.

 

Remus rolls his eyes, burrowing his face in Sirius’ neck as he whispers, “Merlin’s bollocks, Pads. They’re going to be even worse once they tie the knot.”

 

Sirius grins, nuzzling those tawny curls that drive him mad. “Not sure they can get any worse, Moony. Ignore those gits. Enjoy this time we have together.”

 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We’re partners now, you tosser. I have all of eternity to enjoy our time together.”

 

Sirius pulls Remus in for a deep kiss, moaning as they press closer together. “Eternity’s not nearly enough fucking time together, Moony.”

 

Sirius is not sure what will come next, not sure what to expect during this war, not sure what the eventual outcome will be. All he knows is that no matter what happens, no matter what dangers they will face, the marauders will be together, always.

 

**FIN**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re done here. Thank you so much for coming along for the journey! Your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I’m not sure what happens next in this AU. Obviously, there are no traitors in this world, but what else has changed? Are Remus and Sirius able to protect the Potters from the prophecy? Would the prophecy even still be legitimate? The only reason that Voldemort was able to mark Harry as his equal was because there was a traitor. Would the prophecy become something different? Would it even exist at all? Would Regulus be more willing to enlist Sirius in his quest to destroy Voldemort’s horcruxes now that he’s made outreach?
> 
> I’m not sure. If you have any thoughts or ideas, please let me know, either here or on Tumblr (@nachodiablo). Again, thank you all so much for your interest and support!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
